Lethal Whispers (rewritten), ML AU with aliens
by Max and Liz believer
Summary: Elizabeth Parker was a gifted woman; her intelligence both impressive and unnerving to the people she encountered in her daily life. Ms. Parker was plagued by odd nightmares at a fairly young age, inhibiting her possibilities for a great life. Her life was about to become threatened in real life, her prospective dark future inadvertently sending warning signals to a stranger.
1. Prologue

**Title: Lethal Whispers**

**Author:** Josephin

**Category:** M/L and some M/M

**Rating:** MATURE

**Disclaimer:** These stories are works of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The characters of Roswell belong to its founder - Jason Katims, Twentieth Century Fox Corporation, Regency Entertainment, and Monarchy B.V.

**Editor:** Gigo

**Summary:** Elizabeth Parker was a gifted woman; her intelligence both impressive and unnerving to the people she encountered in her daily life. Ms. Parker was plagued by odd nightmares at a fairly young age, inhibiting her possibilities for a great life. The night terrors featured a strange terrain, a dying lover and herself - losing her baby over and over again. Unbeknownst to her, her life was about to become threatened in real life, her prospective dark future inadvertently sending warning signals to a stranger. The premonitory visions experienced by a man of alien ancestry would eventually bring the two together, introducing Elizabeth Parker to a world she never thought to exist.

**Author's note:** I started writing on this story in 2003 - 12 years ago - and while simultaneously writing on a lot of my other fics, I lost my inspiration for this one. While being on RF, I always promised that I wouldn't leave any fics incomplete, so here I am with a remake of "Lethal Whispers". To jumpstart my inspiration I rewrote the whole thing, so even though there is still a version of this story in the "Dead and Buried"-section, this story will be slightly different and hence replaces the "old version". The fic is completed, because I didn't want to leave you hanging (again), so there'll probably be a weekly update schedule or something like that.

It feels really good to be back here. I've missed this place. I hope you'll enjoy this story; I certainly loved writing it.

**Thank you's:** Elizabeth, I'm so grateful that I have you - editing my work even after all these years.

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

Max Evans was only five years old when he saw death for the first time. It was on the same cold day in early February as his adoption was finalized and the Evans family was about to celebrate becoming an official family.

"How about we get something to eat at that diner you like so much?"

His eyes lost their grip on the frost on the outside of the window and he looked over at his new mother who was smiling encouragingly at him. He felt his usually serious mouth tentatively move to mirror her expression and he cautiously eased somewhat on the lid he usually kept on his emotions to feel the elation of the day's events. _His mother._ He had a mother.

Without a word, he nodded and watched his official parent give an affirmative nod in return. "'Joe's Diner' it is."

"I'm starving." The voice from the back seat belonged to Max's sister, Isabel. They had not yet confirmed that Max and Isabel were actually related, but the assumption had been made as soon as the young children had been found together, without a string of clothing on their bodies, walking alongside a graveled road five months prior. They were, however, as alike as fire and earth. Isabel, with her assertive and exuberant characteristics, were the opposite of Max's quiet, reflective nature. Isabel's light personality traits were reflected in her blonde hair and confident brown eyes, while Max's dark coloring made him proficient at melting into the background. Isabel had been officially adopted a week earlier, a celebration which on her request had resulted in a trip to the mall.

"I think we all need something to eat," Philip Evans inserted, seated next to his adoptive daughter in the back seat.

"I want a cheese burger and fries and ice cream and…"

"Whoa whoa," Diane Evans laughed. "Let's go easy on the menu, huh?"

"If anyone can eat all of that, it would be our Isabel," Philip grinned, proudness coloring his voice at the idea of Isabel being their daughter, even on paper.

Max returned his attention to the window, tracing lines in the condensation with his finger.

"Maybe a smoothie too?" Isabel asked hopefully.

"You can have anything you want, sweetie," Diane complied. "Today is a special occa-"

The sharp intake of air from his mother had Max quickly turn his head towards her.

Diane was watching the road, quiet words tumbling across her lips as she watched the scene unfold in front of the car. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…"

Diane's behavior caused ice-cold shivers to sprinkle down Max's spine while adrenaline was heating up his blood. He was afraid to turn and look at the road; his mother's reaction being the reason.

"What is it?" Isabel asked from the back seat just seconds before Diane slammed on the breaks.

"Jesus," Philip mumbled as their car came to a sliding stop. "Isabel, don't look."

"Why not?" Isabel was craning her neck trying to see through the space between the two front seats.

Diane turned around in her seat, her face devoid of color. "Isabel, sit back and close your eyes."

No one was paying Max any attention. Through his silence, he had managed to fade back into the background. But that didn't mean he wasn't present. Slowly, he turned his head away from his mother to look out the front window.

The blue car that had been in front of them looked like a barbecue stick. That was Max's initial thought. There was a large metal pipe sticking out of the back window of the car and even though Max couldn't see the front, he quickly assumed the stick was also sticking out through the car's front windshield. There were more metal pipes on the road. The Evans' car had stopped a couple of inches short of one of them. A large red truck had reached an abrupt stop diagonally across the road in front of the blue car and as Max watched, yet another metal pipe rolled off the top of the cargo and clunked heavily to the ground.

"Stay here," Philip ordered his children and opened his door. He was running up to the blue car while Diane slowly got out of the car, taking the scene in with a dazed shocked expression.

Max watched his father get close to the car, stop, take a step back and put his hand over his mouth. His voice sounded odd, distorted, as he yelled to his wife, "Di, call 911."

Diane turned around, her eyes searching for a pay phone. Spotting one not to far down the road, she turned to Max and Isabel. "Stay here, and keep your eyes closed."

"What's happening, Mommy?" Isabel whimpered. The chills intensified around Max's spine. He had only heard his big sister sounding so scared once. When they had crawled out of the cave where they had woken up without a single memory and without knowing where to go.

"Everything's going to be okay, Bell," Diane answered, her voice sounding stressed and strained. "There's been an accident, okay? Mom's gonna call 911, but I need to find a pay phone. It won't take long."

Isabel had her hands over her eyes, not looking, as ordered. A sob escaped her lips and she nodded. "Okay."

Diane looked over at Max, who was looking at his mother with large eyes. "Stay in the car."

Without blinking, he nodded.

Max never closed his eyes. Instead his eyes watched as the shape of his mother grew smaller and smaller as she got closer to a phone booth not far down the road, in the direction from which they had come.

As she picked up the receiver, Max saw something in the corner of his eye. The quiet sobs from the back seat dimmed as Max's searching gaze landed on a bundle a couple of feet away from the car. He squinted, trying to make out what it was. Then he quickly looked at his father, who had opened the door to the driver's seat of the damaged car and was leaning into it, before his eyes flickered to his wife who was gesturing with her hands as she was talking to someone on the phone.

Max looked back at the bundle and was just about to categorize it as a bag of some sort when the cold wind blew across the bundle, lifting up strands of hair.

Human. It was a person.

Looking to his parents again for unspoken advice and still finding their attention elsewhere, Max's hand gripped the door handle and pushed the door open. He shot a glance at his sister before getting out, but Isabel had now, with her eyes firmly squeezed shut, moved her hands to cover her ears instead of her eyes and was humming sobbingly to herself.

The ground was hard, frozen by the late winter, but Max's steps barely made a sound as he moved closer to the person.

It was a girl. About his age. Her dark hair was billowing gently in the almost non-existent breeze, periodically revealing a bloody pale cheek and closed eyes.

Max swallowed and searched for his father again. His point of view had now changed and unfortunately, in searching for his father, he was exposed to the long side of the blue car, with the horizontal metal pipe sticking out in the front and back of the vehicle. He could also see that the pipe had not only speared the car, but also its driver. When he was older, he would find out that the pipe had probably killed the female driver instantly, impaling her heart.

At the moment, it was too much for Max to take in. The realization of what had happened would hit him much later, when lying safely tucked in, in his bed, looking up at the model airplanes hanging from his bedroom ceiling, trying to sleep. Right now, all he could process was that his parents were busy, so _he_would have to help this girl.

He knelt next to her prone shape and pushed the hair out of her face. Her face was broken up in cuts and there was blood seeping from the deeper injuries. It looked like she was sleeping. Except that her lips were an odd color. Max frowned. Blue. They were blue.

He rocked back on his heels and looked at her for another second or two. She didn't move. The wind got caught in her sweater, rustling it. His eyes returned to the blood drying on her face and the wounds that were still seeping, albeit slowing.

Tentatively he put a finger to a deep gush over the girls left eyebrow, wanting the blood to stop.

_Stop_, he thought. _Stop bleeding. Please._

He could feel the warmness of her blood coat the underside of his finger, but her skin felt cold.

He closed his eyes and couldn't help but think about how this girl would look like when she was moving. How she would look like running, riding a bike, laughing, smiling… A strong chill went through him. Her coldness was scaring him.

_Wake up. You have to wake up._

If his eyes had been open, he would've seen the pale hue of the girl's skin warm with a visible glow, spreading out from his finger and fluidly igniting the rest of her body like a fire.

_Please, wake up._

"No, Max…"

The quiet whisper behind him had his eyes spring open. With a touch of shame, he quickly turned his head and was met with his mother's sad face. She wasn't looking at her son, rather was staring at the girl on the frozen ground in front of her recently adopted son.

"Oh my God… Max. Was she laying out here?"

He nodded. "I just wanted to help," he whispered.

He watched her swallow and attempt a strained smile, that looked slightly nauseous. "Of course you did, honey." She sank to her knees next to him and managed to tear her eyes away from the victim in favor of her son. "But you need to let the adults take care of this. You shouldn't see this."

Her voice was soft, gentle, as if her words could soften the horrors Max had already witnessed.

"I think she's asleep," Max said quietly. "And cold. She needs a blanket."

Tears spilled over and ran down Diane's face as the truth of the girl's doomed condition hit her. Something that her five-year-old son was too young to understand. It was the fourth time Max had seen his mother cry. The first time had been when she and her husband had found Max and Isabel wandering along a gravel road in the middle of the night. The second time had been when Isabel was adopted. The third time had only been an hour ago, when Max had become their son.

"I think so too, honey", Diane whispered and took a gentle hold of his wrist, making him aware of the fact that he was still touching the girl. "We should get her a blanket." Diane carefully pulled Max's hand away, trying ignore the blood from the girl that had been transferred to his young innocent skin. "Let's get you back to the car, okay?"

Max looked back at the girl, one last time, and noticed that her lips were pink. He frowned. He was sure they were blue before. Just then, there was a faint groan from the girl's lips and her whole body seemed to move as she pulled in a sharp breath.

The sound was so sudden that Diane jumped and let go of Max's hand. "Oh my God."

She bent over the girl, brushing the hair away from her face. "Sweetie? Can you hear me?" Momentarily tearing her eyes away from the awakening girl, Diane told Max, "Max, get the blanket from the trunk."

Max nodded, an urgency coming over him as he got to his feet and ran back to the car. As he got the trunk opened he could hear his mother calling for her husband and in the distance he could hear the sirens.

That was the first time he met Elizabeth. But years would transpire before he would meet her again.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 1

Hello everyone!

**Proxy-Blue22** and **Elementalmoon**: Thank you _so much_ for the feedback!

The following two chapters were a bit short, so I decided to post two chapters today instead of just one. I hope you'll like it.

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**  
_Liz_

"Welcome to our firm, Ms. Parker." His handshake was firm and Elizabeth liked him immediately.

"Thank you, Mr. Smith," Elizabeth answered with a warm smile. "I'm looking forward to working with you."

Her new boss, Eugene Smith, returned her smile with a slightly crooked one of his own. "Just let me know if you have any questions. Serena will help you to your office." He gestured to a petite redhead who was standing quietly behind her superior and she took his gesture as her cue.

She extended her hand to Elizabeth with a welcoming smile. "Pleased to meet you."

Elizabeth nodded. "Likewise."

Moving her freckled arm in a wide arc to highlight the wide corridor leading to the south of the building, Serena requested, "Please come this way, Ms. Parker."

The walls of the corridor were lined with architectural drawings of grand commercial buildings and impressive private homes. Elizabeth could feel a flutter in the pit of her stomach. This was her first real job as an architect after graduating with her Masters in Architecture only a month prior to landing the position. The firm was well-respected and had a large, and fairly wealthy, clientele. Which meant that there were fewer limits to the designs, something that was really exciting to the aspiring young architect.

The firm had been thrilled to have her. She had been at the top of her class and had received words of praise from her teachers as well as the people she had worked with as an intern.

"Here you go," Serena said and opened a glass door to a fairly generous office.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, trying to remain professional when all she wanted to do was giggle with excitement. Her very first office.

"Let me know if you have any questions, Ms. Parker."

Elizabeth turned around just as Serena was starting to close the door. "Please, call me Liz."

Serena smiled and nodded in affirmation.

As the door closed behind her, Liz tried to take it all in. She stood there for about two minutes before taking a deep breath and taking a seat behind the desk, gently spreading her hands over the surface of her desk in wonder. She lifted the receiver to the red phone in the right top corner of the large desk and punched in a familiar phone number.

"Jeffrey speaking."

"Dad, hi," Liz smiled into the receiver.

"Oh, hi baby. I didn't recognize the number. Where are you?"

"I'm calling you from my office," Liz smiled, biting down on her lower lip to contain an exuberant squeal.

"Oh, sweetheart." Liz could hear her father's smile in his voice. "That's so exciting. How does it feel? Is it a good place? Are they treating you well?"

Liz laughed softly. "So far, so good. I'm so excited to get to work."

"Finally. After all of your hard work," Jeffrey answered. "I hope you'll have a blast."

Liz couldn't help but roll her eyes at her father's attempt at being a bit 'groovy', as he called it. "I'm sure I will. I'm having a meeting with my boss, Mr. Smith, in about…" Liz glanced at her wrist watch, "four minutes, and he's going to go through my first project with me. I can't believe this is happening. I'm finally an adult!"

Her father was somewhat subdued when he replied, "My little girl is growing up."

"Don't get all mushy on me now, Daddy," Liz smiled as she played with the spiral telephone cord.

Jeffrey cleared his throat. "I'm not. You should get prepared for that meeting, sweetheart."

"Okay," Liz replied. "I'll call you later."

"I'll be waiting."

Liz hung up with a smile. Since the death of her mother, Liz and her father had grown really close. The emergency personnel arriving at the horrific freak accident that had killed her mother had told Jeffrey Parker that it was a miracle that his daughter had survived, something that had made Jeffrey treasure every second with his daughter thereafter.

The force of the impact of the metal pipe through the car, spearing her mother, had propelled Elizabeth through the windshield and caused her to end up several feet from the car. Elizabeth couldn't remember much from the accident; she had only been four at the time. But apparently she had been covered in blood, without having a scratch on her. Except for a faint cut across her left eyebrow. The scar tissue over her eye was today the only remaining visible trace. The people working at the scene had assumed that the girl had been splashed with her mother's blood before being expelled from the car. It wasn't the most plausible explanation, since there hadn't been very much blood spread out in a projectile pattern inside the car, but it was the only one they could come up with.

Apart from the bottomless grief from losing a mother, Liz's life changed forever that day. To the sharp and attentive objective bystander, those changes all took effect the second Liz opened her eyes in the arms of a strange woman in the middle of a frozen concrete road at the end of February. But due to the young age of the girl at the time of the tragedy, her personality, traits and intelligence had not quite formed yet, making it hard to discern what had in essence been _added_ on that day and what had already been there.

Elizabeth Parker grew up as a careful child and up until her teenage years she was considered introverted and attended a therapist on a regular basis between the age of 10 to 12. This was when the nightmares had started. The therapist preferred to call them night terrors because of their seemingly real texture. The concept of having nightmares after having lost your mother to a traumatizing freak of circumstances was perhaps not that strange. But Liz was not dreaming about the accident. She was dreaming of mud, blood, green skies and abortions. An odd combination of dreams for a young girl to have.

The night terrors abruptly stopped one day in October in Liz's fifteenth year of life and hadn't returned since then. In their absence, Liz blossomed. She tentatively tested her place in this life and started to make use of all the traits that had been growing inside of her but which had been subdued as a result of Liz's conscious exclusion of the outside world.

Shortly after the cessation of the nightly terrors, Liz picked up German from a TV-show called Anna, Schmidt and Oscar which her father had brought home on a business trip. Her father initially explained Liz's talent at suddenly speaking German as "Even TV can be very educational, I guess", but in the span of merely two years Liz was effortlessly fluent in not only German, but also French, Spanish, Greek, Italian, Finnish and Mandarin. During this period, Liz was moved to a school for gifted children, where she excelled in everything that was thrown at her. By the age of 21, Liz had taken on ballet, played the piano, the guitar, the saxophone and taught a group of deaf 7-to-8-year-olds mathematics in sign language. At one point, Jeffrey Parker was even convinced that his daughter possessed telepathic abilities.

But she couldn't stand the rain. Her reaction to this essential part of Earth's water cycle could almost be compared to someone's reaction to precipitation in the form of acid. The therapist never was very successful in finding the root to this phobia of rain. An ombrophobia which would have been traced back to a time before the day of the car accident.

* * *

Liz was in the midst of placing pencils in the top drawer of her desk when there was a knock on the door. Looking up, she recognized her boss, who looked more like an old professor than an architect with his metallic round glasses and unruly white hair. Her smile froze on her lips as she spotted the man standing behind her most recent employer. Her eyes only momentarily caught the man's gaze, but it was enough to send her heart into a nervous flutter. There was something about him that sent dark chills through her body. She forced a polite smile back on her face and rose from her position behind the large wooden desk.

"Ms. Parker. How are you finding your office?" Mr. Smith asked.

"Large," Liz smiled, uncomfortably aware of the strange man's intense stare. She decided to get the whole thing over with and walked up to the man, extending her hand. "I don't believe we have met; I'm Elizabeth Parker."

A slow dark semi-smile spread across the man's thin lips and Liz felt the room shrink. She barely registered the man moving in to take her hand as she was distracted by the feeling of oxygen being sucked out of the room. The touch of his palm against hers jolted her back to reality.

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Parker." His voice was dark, as dark as his black hair, tanned skin and black eyes. Those same eyes that still pierced through her very essence. She presumed that he was considered an attractive man by society's standards, but Liz only felt danger.

"Ms. Parker, this is David Perkins. He's one of our head architects and you'll be working very closely with him on this project."

Liz barely restrained the shudder that wanted to rattle through her at the prospect of spending a lot of time in the vicinity of this man. Similar to how she'd had a good feeling about her boss, she had a bad feeling about David Perkins.

"Oh, okay," Liz said, relieved that her voice sounded neutral.

"Let me take you through the ropes," Mr. Smith said lightly and gestured towards Liz's desk. "Shall we?"

* * *

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door and a blonde pretty girl peeked in apologetically. "Sorry for interrupting…"

"What is it, Ms. Evans?" Mr. Smith asked.

"Can I borrow David? It'll only take a minute."

Mr. Smith didn't look too pleased with the request, but waved David in direction of the door. "Come on, Mr. Perkins, don't let a pretty girl wait."

Liz caught the girl's eyes and the blonde smiled. But the second the easy smile settled into the red-painted lips, it started to fall. The girl's lips turned into a question mark as she frowned, seemingly in deep thought.

David chose that moment to step into Liz's field of vision and, taking a deep collecting breath, Liz refocused her eyes on the notes in front of her. _What's up with you today?_

Mr. Smith got back to the matter at hand, but as he continued talking, Liz let her eyes wander towards the glass door, through which she could see David and the blonde talking. As if feeling that she was being watched, the girl turned her head and looked at Liz, making Liz divert her eyes towards her boss.

In less than a minute, David had returned to the office and the blonde girl had left.

* * *

"I'm Isabel," a voice said behind her.

Liz turned her head and saw the blonde that had spoken to David earlier, standing next to the table at which Liz had chosen to eat her lunch.

"Liz," Liz introduced.

Isabel smiled, the ease having returned to her manners. "I'm sorry about before…"

Liz averted her eyes and poked the microwave-heated pasta bolognese in front of her with her fork. "What do you mean?"

Isabel gracefully slid into the chair next to Liz. "I have a feeling I was acting a bit peculiar earlier."

Liz gave her an incredulous look, "You were?"

Isabel paused for a second, as if to gauge Liz's response. "Well, good thing you didn't seem to notice. I just… I just had a feeling that I'd seen you before. I guess my face went into this stupid gawking expression as I was trying to figure that out."

Liz, slightly uncomfortable with the conversation, shrugged. "That's alright."

Isabel paused again and Liz could see how the easy smile was turning insecure. Liz cleared her throat. She wasn't used to being stared at. Not so uninhibited. Well, not since earlier this morning when David Perkins had done so. Of course, while Mr. Perkins' stare had installed something close to fear in her, Isabel's presence was merely…uncomfortable.

Isabel sighed and Liz glanced at her long enough to see her guilty expression. "Sorry. I just did it again. It's just so weird, you know. It's just not only that I have a feeling that I've seen you before, it's like I _know_ you."

Isabel had gained Liz's full attention. _What an odd thing to say._

"You really say what's on your mind, don't you?" Liz asked, trying to make her voice light.

Fortunately, Isabel took it in the right way. She laughed. "Yep, that's me. Foot in mouth disease."

"I'm sorry. I'm pretty sure I've never met you before," Liz added.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right. Where did you go to college?"

"Harvard."

Isabel whistled. "One of those, huh? Nah, wouldn't have met you at college."

Liz was finding this whole encounter stranger by the second. Isabel seemed unnervingly certain that they _had_ indeed met. It was only a question of figuring out where.

"Where did you grow up?"

"Um…" Liz started to look around herself, but didn't see anyone else that was inclined to join them at their table and incidentally interrupt this interrogation. "Chicago."

"Hmm…never been," Isabel mused.

Liz's light laughter interrupted Isabel's musings. "Sorry, but I'm pretty sure we've never met before. I have, for the record, a fairly good memory."

Isabel bit her lower lip thoughtfully and looked more closely at Liz. "So do I. I'm never wrong. Maybe you know my brother Max Evans? Or my friend Michael Guerin? Or maybe…maybe Maria. Maria DeLuca?"

Liz gave a short laugh. "Look. I'm pretty sure going through your contact book won't make it any more true that our paths have previously crossed."

Isabel pursed her lips. "Maybe…" And then shrugged. "Ah well."

Completely changing tracks, Isabel smiled beautifully and started unpacking her lunch box. "You don't mind if I sit with you?"

Liz returned the smile and shook her head. "Why not?"

Maybe Isabel Evans wasn't so bad after all.

TBC… (in the next post)


	3. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**  
_Max_

"Max? Maaax?"

Something was disturbing his nap.

"Wake up…"

He groaned and reluctantly opened one eye. His sister's face was about an inch from his.

"Iz…" he moaned annoyed, having the faint brain activity to curse himself for giving his sister the spare key to his apartment. "I've worked the night shift, why are you waking me up?"

Isabel sat back, seemingly unbothered by the fact that she had disturbed her younger brother's sleep, and looked at him patiently while he hauled himself up into a semi-seated position.

"Have you ever met a girl named Elizabeth Parker? From Chicago?"

Max yawned and tiredly rubbed his right eye. "Why?"

Isabel appeared to ponder this. "I just have this really strong feeling that I've met her, even though today was supposedly the first time I did. You know, kinda like when we met Michael. Like a…connection."

Max sighed. "If I answer your question will you leave my apartment and let me sleep?"

"Why are you so grumpy?" Isabel questioned, her mood turning a shade darker. Everyone who knew Isabel Evans knew that her mood could change quite rapidly from one extreme to the other.

But Max couldn't be bothered about not stepping on Isabel's feelings right now. He had to get to work in five hours and he'd only had two hours of sleep so far. "Because I'm tired, Iz."

"I thought you _wanted_ me to tell you everything that might have a connection to our past," Isabel objected.

"It's been years since anything 'new' happened. Come to think of it, figuring out who Michael was was our last connection to our origin."

"So just because a certain amount of time has passed, new information is not allowed?"

Max sighed. "Could we please have this conversation some other time?"

"So you could get back to your dreams?" Isabel taunted. "Who is it this time? The blonde? Or the brunette?"

Max swiftly picked up his pillow and threw it at his slightly older sister with a groan. If giving Isabel a key to his apartment was number one on the list of 'Things Max Evans shouldn't have shared with his sister', number two on the list was sharing the contents of his dreams with her. "I haven't had those dreams for years, so shut up."

The dreams had been vivid, frightening, dark and suffocating. Most of them had his heart almost pumping out of his chest, some of them were more…romantic. Even though the essence of the dreams was the same, the lead characters were not. Some dreams portrayed a petite blonde with a seductive smile and alluring curves, while some portrayed a petite beautiful brunette with a soft demeanor and intelligent eyes.

"How about you meet this Elizabeth Parker before you discard the idea of a connection?" Isabel suggested tartly, interrupting Max's line of thought.

He sighed, rubbing his palms down his face. "She's in Chicago?"

"No, she's at my job. She just started."

Max glanced at the bedside clock, watching his minutes of sleep ticking away. If approving was the solution to getting his sister out of his bedroom, he would. "Fine. I'll meet with her."

"There's a party coming up soon, for the firm. I'll make sure she attends." Isabel looked so pleased with herself that Max couldn't help but smile.

"Fine. Let me know the details. Now, could I please get back to sleep?"

"Of course, dear brother," Isabel said with a warm smile and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I'll let myself out."

"Sure. You do that," Max grumbled, already halfway back into sleep.

* * *

"Ma'am? Ma'am? Can you hear me?"

The 83-year-old woman with the recently broken neck of the femoral head, known colloquially as a broken hip, replied with a weak and pained "Yes."

"We're going to put this oxygen mask over your mouth, so you can breathe a li- Max?"

Max had been working around the stretcher, clearing the way up to the ambulance when a wave of fatigue had swept through him. His colleague, momentarily distracted from her elderly patient, reached out with her hand in an attempt to steady Max.

Max waved her hand away. "I'm fine. Just haven't got enough sl-"

Melissa Meyer watched the 23-year-old fall like a brick of cards, his legs folding beneath his weight, his head falling heavily against the asphalted ground, and had instantly temporarily lost a member of her staff and acquired yet another patient.

Max initial thought was _I'm blind_, as he looked around himself. It was pitch dark and the ground beneath his fingers was slightly damp. There was a faint smell of urine and warm garbage, the kind that had been left in the sun for too long. He lifted his head off the ground, briefly wondering what had happened before his thoughts became occupied with trying to figure out where he was.

As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he became increasingly aware of the fact that he was no longer helping his colleague load an accident-prone retired woman into an ambulance at work. Neither Melissa nor the patient were anywhere in sight.

He was lying on the pavement, surrounded by tall buildings. The distant siren of a police car reached him as he struggled to get to his feet.

_Where am I?_

Down the road he heard a rhythmic clapping sound, the intervals between each clap decreasing as the sound grew closer. Someone was running, he could hear the person panting with the exertion. He could tell from the subtle smell of strawberries that swirled through the air when the person passed, without seeing her from his position on the ground, that it was a woman. Her running steps was a light sound compared to the harder steps of the dark figure following her.

Max got to his feet and yelled at the masculine shape as he passed him, "Hey!" He reached through the air with the purpose of stopping the man who was obviously following the woman, whose shape had held a twinge of desperation and a bucket of fear, but his hand waved through the fabric of the man's dark leather jacket as if it consisted of nothing more than air. Max paused and looked at his empty hand, having the oddest Patrick Swayze-in-'Ghost'-sensation. _Am I dead?_

"Help! Please! Somebody help me!" The woman's desperate cry echoed off the empty street and Max looked up to see her turning into an alley. The man, whom he had been unsuccessful in stopping, was closing in on her.

Dead or not, Max couldn't just sit by and watch. He scrambled to his feet and started down the street, not far behind the man he had just seen turning the same corner as the woman. The alley was narrow, positioned behind a Chinese restaurant, cluttered with garbage containers and fire ladders. But even though there ought to be people around, no one was looking out their apartment window or opening their back door to the alley at the woman's pleas for help. He saw the two people at the dead end of the alley. She was now on the ground, flat on her back, with her perpetrator straddling her waist.

"No, please. No, don't. Pleasedon'thurtmepleasedon'thurtmepleasedon'thurtme." Her frantic mumblings were not quiet but not loud enough to be heard above the first level of the surrounding buildings.

"Hey! Get off her!" Max shouted and started running for the couple. Neither of them turned their heads at his command.

Max could see her light pink lacy bra, the man having ripped open her blouse, but his focus went to the blood slowly trickling down her throat, pooling between her collarbones. The man had struck her, a redness and swelling already spreading across the female's left cheek, the blood originating from the corner of her mouth.

Max made a new attempt at pushing the man off the woman, pulling him, hitting him. He only succeeded in looking like a cartoon character exhibiting an elaborate dance with an invisible imaginary foe. It was as if he was not there.

In horror, he helplessly witnessed the tears of fear, humiliation and desperation drip down the woman's cheeks as he could only watch as the man continued to tear at the woman's clothes. At first she did her best to push him off her, her voice occasionally cutting through the desolate alley only to be cut off with a strike to the mouth, a punch across her cheek. Adrenaline, hot and painful, burned through Max's veins as he could do nothing but watch. The bitter metallic taste of blood lingered in his mouth as he bit his lip in futility, continuing his air-fighting even though neither the woman, whose efforts to fight back were waning, nor the woman's assailant were aware of his existence.

As the man pulled on the woman's jeans, barely stopping to unzip them but instead forcing them down her ice-cold thighs, and she stopped her struggling and let her head loll to the side in resignation, Max sank into a seated position with tears streaking his own face.

"Make it stop," Max whispered, his weight falling back on the heels of his feet. His hand closed in the space where he were supposed to feel the woman's right hand and imagined holding it for comfort. His eyes were on her brown empty ones as he heard the perpetrator tear her panties.

He leaned over her, wishing for her to be able to see him, unconsciously trying to shield her from the man lying on top of her and whispered against her cheek. "Don't be afraid. Fight. Fight him."

But of course, she couldn't hear him. He was nothing but air to her.

He lingered in the space above her tear-streaked face and pleaded, "Make it stop. Make it stop."

It felt like being sucked into a vacuum cleaner. The air around him made an odd whooshing sound and then he was back on the ground. In broad daylight. Next to the rear tire of the ambulance.

"Jesus. Max."

He met the concerned eyes of his colleague Melissa and inhaled sharply. Before he had time to say anything, Melissa pressed his efforts to stand up to the ground. "Stay down. You had a seizure."

"A seizure?" he stammered and became aware of the wet spot of saliva on his chin. He brushed it off with the back of his hand.

"Foaming at the mouth and everything," Melissa murmured. She seemed pretty shaken up.

"I'm fine," Max mumbled. _Or was he?_

"Have you ever had a seizure before?" Melissa asked.

Max swallowed and attempted to sit up again. This time Melissa let him. Instantly shame hit him as he noticed the damp patch on the front of his pants. He had lost control of his bladder. A seizure, of course. All the symptoms made sense.

"How long was I…" he swallowed again, his mouth uncomfortably dry, "…seizing?"

"About two minutes. Grand mal." Melissa was temporarily distracted by something, looking over her shoulder, before she turned back to Max. "I had to call another ambulance to take care of our patient. We were just about to get you onto a bed and load you… Christ, Max. You scared the living shit out of me."

Max brushed a hand down his face. _Ditto._

TBC...


	4. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**  
_Maria_

She'd had a crush on him when she was younger. He had been the boy that had showed up, seemingly out of nowhere, one day at school holding onto his sister's hand. He'd had the same expression on his face as she had seen her mother have when she, Maria, had been close to falling off the roof to their old house when she was four. Anticipated fear.

There had been a lot of whispers around, whenever that boy entered the room. It lasted for exactly twelve days before the boy's ability to blend in and make himself uninteresting killed the speculations and the hushed excitement. But his attempts at invisibility had only intrigued Maria DeLuca. As the child of hippie-oriented parents, with their minds on a free upbringing and all it entailed, Maria was 'on the other side' of the popularity border way before Max Evans entered her life. Children would look at her and giggle, pointing her out to their female friends, as if she was everyone's inside joke. She didn't particularly approve of it, but being unable to change she had learnt to ignore it.

She had one thing in common with the girls who were making fun of her multicolored hair and her large necklaces; she never succeeded in getting close to Max Evans. Because she really wanted to. It was not only about how she liked his dark expressive eyes or how protective he was of his sister, it was like an innate pull towards the boy. As if the tumor growing inside her head was on a suicidal mission to search out the one person that could annihilate it.

She didn't know she had malignant cells rapidly dividing inside of her brain tissue at that time. The headaches would come first eleven months later. The introduction of the headaches appeared to eliminate her feelings of love for the boy. In its place grew an instinctual need to be in the vicinity of Max Evans. An instinctive need for survival.

Sometimes she wondered if he knew, all those years ago. As the headaches started to get really bad and her eyes would search him out in the crowd, his eyes would always meet hers as if he was already looking at her. He'd never told her if he knew that she was sick before she did. Before the doctors did. There were a lot of things he didn't tell her.

Five days in the wake of her eight birthday her parents took her to the hospital to investigate her persistent and often painful headaches. She had started off her birthday with having a seizure, the first one. There would be more. The CT-scan revealed a mass in her brain and she was scheduled for surgery not long thereafter. A tumor the size of a plum was removed from her brain and sequential tissue analysis had given the diagnosis of a highly malignantly graded Glioblastoma multiforme. Maria had understood from how the doctor had wanted to speak with her parents privately that the diagnosis was not one to exhale and relax about. The invasive surgery was not the end to her sick days.

The incision on her head had barely healed before she was subjected to radiation therapy, followed by chemotherapy. She celebrated her ninth birthday without hair and about twenty pounds lighter, which had her looking like a walking skeleton. Her parents didn't invite anyone to her ninth birthday (they were expecting it to be her last), but had baked a large cake (which Maria managed to keep down for a total of two minutes) and had given their daughter what she had mostly wished for - a telescope. Maria understood that they didn't expect her to live for her tenth birthday.

Around the time that the tumor had regrown and started to eat its way into Maria's frontal and temporal lobes, slightly changing her personality and affecting her speech, Max Evans came to knock on the door of the DeLuca's.

"I don't want you here," was Maria's first words when she saw the boy she'd had a crush on just two years prior standing in the doorway to her room.

There was a faint stubble on her head where long blonde hair, interspersed with bands of lime green and hot pink, had once been. The left side of her face was drooping slightly, making saliva sometimes drip from the left side of her mouth. She didn't want anyone to see her like this. She could barely stand her parents seeing her like this. She might just be nine years, one month and two days old, but she was already a proud, self-conscious female being.

Max didn't acknowledge Maria's impolite greeting. "Hi, Maria."

"Pleasd, leavd," Maria slurred, stumbling on the words.

She turned her head away, attempting to look out the window. But her mother had previously pulled her pink curtains crammed with flowery pattern in front of the windows, blocking out the afternoon sun. Maria's attempt at appearing stubborn and with a mind of her own become futile as she stared at the curtain.

"Can I come in?" Max asked politely, but Maria thought she heard a certain assertiveness to his voice. Max? Assertive? She almost smiled. It couldn't be so.

She surrendered with a sigh. "Dure."

She felt him take a seat on her right side, her good side, but didn't turn to face him until he took her hand. "How are you feeling?"

She managed to shake her head and push a little sarcasm into her reply, "Amazing." As she turned to look at him, she saw the hint of a smile on his lips. Her tumor added a sentence of its own, "The moon is freezing."

Max frowned slightly, but Maria's mother had informed him that Maria sometimes said things that didn't make sense. These 'word accidents' seemed to be a symptom of the cancer.

"Have you come to mow the lawn?" Maria asked and smiled.

Max shook his head. According to the age his parents had given him upon his adoption, Max was merely nine years and seven months old, but had already discovered that some things were not ordinary about him. Just like some things were not right with Maria. The thing that lived inside her brain was now inside her mind, dictating her thoughts and feelings.

"Don't come candy ulcer," Maria added and then corrected herself, "Any closer."

"I'm here to help you," Max said evenly, shifting backwards on the wooden chair that was positioned next to her bed. The chair had been placed next to Maria's bed by her father four months prior, but had not seen the behinds of many visitors. Maria's pool of friends had been slim in her healthy years, it was basically non-existent in her time of illness.

If Maria's mind hadn't been occupied with the commands of her rapidly growing tumor cells, she might've noticed the slight nervous trembling of the hand Max was using to grip Maria's.

"Okay," Maria whispered and closed her eyes. She was so tired. A light tired laugh trickled across her bottom lip. It was as if Max's hand was pushing fatigue into her. Ludicrous.

"Everyone that knows my secret has told me not to help you. That you're meant to die."

Maria's normally inquisitive mind picked up on _secret_ and _die_, but her mind was not her own anymore and she was too tired to ask. So tired.

His voice was anguished as he added in a hushed voice, "But I can't just let you die."

"Please, don't," Maria said and Max wasn't sure if she meant that he shouldn't help her or if he shouldn't let her die. But he had already made his decision.

* * *

If one had asked Maria to account for what had happened thereafter, she wouldn't have been able to. She had experienced the almost sedating touch of his hand move from her hand to the side of her head. Her bad side, the left side. There had been a tingling sensation just seconds before she had lost consciousness.

She had dreamt of water. She had never learnt to swim and the water surrounding her was thick and cold. She tried to push upwards, her lungs screaming for oxygen, but from the black bottom of the pool of water grew long prickling plants that spun around her ankles, forming knots while thorns pushed into her skin like needles. Her head felt heavy and it was starting to heat up, as if her head was on fire. She tried to scream, pushed and circled with her arms in the uncoordinated movements of an amateur swimmer, until suddenly the plants snapped and loosened their grip. Her arms were tired, but her survival instinct was strong and pushed her upwards, towards the bright glaring warming light above her. She felt the warmness of her blood from the wounds around her ankles flow across her feet and her toes as she floated upwards and the heat of the fire in her head cool to an ember. There was an ever increasing pressure on her chest and she gasped for the air that was non-existent. It felt like forever before she reached the surface and pulled air into her starving lungs…

Next she was looking into Max Evans' eyes. They were tired, listless, worried, pained.

She blinked once. Twice. "Max? What are you doing here?"

Her head was light, the numbness on the side of her face seemed to have lessened. She tried smiling with the left corner of her mouth and it responded. Maybe the numbness was completely gone? She noticed the sweat on Max's face, the awkward angle of his head, the rubbing of his hand across the back of his neck, but found those details hard to focus on when she was simultaneously noticing things with her own body.

"Are you okay?" Max croaked, his eyes blinking heavily.

"I think so," Maria said hesitantly. Was she okay? Was she actually okay? What had happened? She flexed and un-flexed her hands, her left hand responding equally to her right. Her headache was gone, the ever-present nausea had evaporated. She was hungry. She licked her dry lips. Starving.

"Good," Max breathed. "Good."

Maria turned attentive, untainted, eyes towards her classmate. "Are _you_ okay?"

He swallowed noticeably and nodded. "I will be." Droplets of sweat was rolling down his forehead and he seemed to be in pain as he slowly got to his feet. "I should go."

Maria expected him to faint as soon as he got to his feet, but Max managed to stay on unsteady feet while crossing the threshold to her bedroom.

The doctors had given her a maximum of three weeks left to live. Max Evans had given her years, with no set deadline.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**  
_Alex_

It had started out with a fascination. Like a good mystery book. Because to Alex Whitman, Elizabeth Parker had been a mystery. And the more he learned about her, the more the plot had thickened.

Alex had first met Liz when she had transferred to his school. The 'Nerd School' as it was referred to by kids going to the public school. When he complained about being different, his parents would tell him that he was special and that was the reason why he went to a special school. But no one wanted to be _special_ at the age of sixteen. However, when Elizabeth Parker had joined his class, being _special_ had jumped up the scale. Ms. Parker had suddenly made Alex's existence so much brighter.

Alex Whitman was something of a mathematical prodigy and his parents had decided to move him to Simon's Rock, a liberal arts college located in Great Barrington, for the eleventh year of his education. Whereas he had been considered a genius (although somewhat geeky) at his previous school, at Simon's Rock he was in the company of the elite of brainy kids. He had fit in quite well, acquiring more equal-minded friends than the total number of friends across his years of living up until that point.

But no smart kid's résumé compared to Ms. Parker.

The rumors followed her like a trail of crumbs from the second she set her foot in the academy. How she had presumably survived a horrific car crash that had killed her mother but had given her super powers. Well, super intellectual powers. Apparently, there had been small marks, the size of fingerprints, covering a vast majority of her skin several days after the accident. Her body had otherwise been unscathed. Even though they had lingually gifted kids at the school, no one came close to how quickly Liz picked up a language. There were even talks of how she could read minds. That one, obviously, was not true.

At first, she had been a specimen to observe from afar. To the girls, she was obnoxiously beautiful, but at a school where intelligence was prioritized, jealousy of one's exterior held no true value so the girls had accepted her. To the boys, she was gorgeous and compelling. Somehow, she remained untouched. Many tried their luck, asking her out on dates, trying to steal a kiss and maybe more. Some succeeded, but none lasted.

In Alex's eyes she remained untouched and out of reach. Like a butterfly that would lose its ability to fly if you were too rough in handling it, brushing off the powdery scales of its wings disabling its flight. So Alex held her very gently, treasuring the friendship that had started to bloom between them. To Alex, there had been non-platonic feelings blossoming as well, but Alex had never acted on it. Instead he had watched the trail of men move through Liz's life, being tarnished in various degrees by Elizabeth's indifference and aloofness.

Ms. Parker seemed unable to connect. Unable to trust.

Alex would rather not experience that first-hand, hence he had remained the friendly bystander to her romances. But his feelings had lingered, never really evaporating.

"Ms. Parker," Alex announced with a smile as Liz walked towards him with assertive steps. The black skirt was billowing around her knees, the bright green and white dotted blouse flattering while effectively covering her upper body as if designed specifically for Liz's alluring mysterious nature.

She responded to his welcome with a warm smile of her own. "Mr. Whitman. How do you do?"

He focused briefly on the warm pink gloss on her lips, feeling a familiar longing tighten in the center of his body, before he moved to her warm mahogany eyes. After almost six years of friendship, those eyes were as familiar to him as the ones looking back at him every morning in the mirror.

"Why, Ms. Parker. Looking ravishing today."

Liz fluttered her eyelashes in line with their traditional exchange, playing her part to the tee. "Thank you most kindly, Mr. Whitman." She scooted around his shopping cart and touched those admired pink lips loosely to his cheek. "Hello, my friend."

His somewhat thin lips briefly touched her cheek. "Hi, Liz. How was first day at work?"

She pulled back and her face shone brightly. "Absolutely amazing."

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "That good, huh? So you picked the right firm, I presume?"

A faint shadow played across her face, unnoticeable to most, but Alex documented it and shelved it in his memory bank to ask about later. "I have a really good feeling about this one…"

The way she let her statement linger told Alex that the time to ask her about that fleeting moment of darkness across her face was now. "But..?"

She shrugged and quickly jumped subjects. "Let's talk about it later. What are you getting?"

Alex watched her out of the corner of his eyes as she helped him search out his groceries, wondering what was off about her new job. Liz might just be the most intuitive person he knew and he was afraid that she might have stumbled onto something that might jeopardize her future at the architectural firm of her choice. But apparently, that discussion was not going to happen now.

As they continued their walk through the grocery store, things 'not on the list' were added to the cart, the cashier added up the total and they left the store to spend the night in front of Alex's humble TV in his modern apartment.

* * *

They had been discussing everything except what was actually bothering Liz. Alex could tell by the fact that Liz never allowed herself to truly relax that night. She usually laid down on the sofa, resting her legs on Alex's lap (something that was both delightful and tormenting for Alex), while popcorn and chips would end up on his floor and between the cushions of his sofa because she would continuously drop snacks on the trip from the bowl to her mouth. Today, her back was as straight as if it had been nailed to a wooden board, as she supplied Alex with bits of information about her first day at work while apparently watching the movie.

Alex had not been fooled. A quarter past ten he wouldn't allow her to beat around the bush anymore. "Come on, Liz. What happened?"

She turned large eyes to him, going for the theatrical surprised look. "What do you mean?" She really wasn't a very convincing liar.

"Something happened at work, didn't it?"

She shrugged. "Nah. Just nerves, it being my first job and all."

"You might be able to convince your father about that, him believing every word you say, but not me."

Liz paused and unconsciously worried her bottom lip. "There's this man at work."

Alex felt a chill rush through him. He didn't like her grave tone. It was a foreboding of bad news. Leaving only silence as a reply, Alex waited for Liz to continue. "Unfortunately he's my boss' right hand and he's the person in charge on my first project."

She was pushing back the cuticles on her left thumb with her the nail of her right thumb, her voice taking on a soft hesitant tone. "He… he scared me, Alex."

There was a sheen of moisture in her eyes as she looked up at him, which awoke a fierce protective streak in Alex. "What did he do?"

"Nothing," she swallowed and shook her head. "Nothing."

Alex frowned. "Then how-"

"It was just a feeling," Liz interrupted. "The way he was looking at me… I don't know. Like he had plans for me."

Alex guffawed, despite himself. "Plans? What kind of plans?"

She shook her head again, "It's ridiculous."

"Tell me," Alex encouraged.

Liz paused, now working over the cuticle of her left index finger. "Like he wanted to eat me."

At a loss of an appropriate reply, Alex gave a short laugh, "'Eat you'?"

"Devour me," Liz clarified, deadly serious.

Alex felt the chill run down his back, spreading goose bumps in its wake. "You're serious?"

Liz nodded. "I can't explain it better than that. His eyes…" She turned introspective, thinking of David Perkins' black eyes and how they had burrowed into her soul, seemingly draining her of warmth. She shivered in the warmth of Alex's apartment.

"Did he make any advances?" Alex asked, his tone authoritative. He might have to have a little chat with that man…

Liz answered in negative, "No." She retrieved the blanket from the back of the sofa and started to spread it across her suddenly cold legs. "Not yet."

"But you think he will?"

"Either that or kill me?"

Alex laughed again, a humorless and disbelieving laugh. "You're kidding."

Liz closed her eyes and leaned back against the back of the couch, no trace of humor in her countenance. "It's probably nothing."

Alex watched her contemplatively. "How long is this project for?"

Liz opened her eyes and met his worried ones. "Approximately eight months, give or take."

"Great," Alex murmured.

Liz held his eyes for a couple of seconds before mentally shrugging herself out of the depressive state of her thoughts. "It's probably nothing. Of course it's nothing. I've only just met this guy; I don't know anything about him. Maybe we just don't click. I mean, bad guys only exists in the movies, right?"

Alex smiled faintly, Liz's darkness now having infected his thoughts. "Possibly."

"Just forget I said anything," Liz added and took a deep breath. "Let's just watch the movie, okay? Could you rewind? I have no idea what this movie is about."

Alex considered Liz's words for another second or two before picking up the remote control. "We might as well start from the beginning."

TBC...


	6. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**  
_Michael_

"What happened?"

Max looked over at his friend, closer to him than a brother, and was slightly surprised at his concern. It would be raining pigs before Michael Guerin would admit to being the worrying kind.

Max lifted the bun on his hamburger and dashed a generous amount of Tabasco sauce on top. "Apparently, I had a seizure."

"You've never had a seizure before," Maria voiced, sitting down next to Michael. Her concern, on the other hand, was more familiar to Max than Michael's.

Max shook his head. "Not that I know of."

Michael frowned, picked a soggy french fry off Max's plate, and stuffed it in his mouth. He had known Max for about six years. He was one of the few people on this planet Earth that was privy to Max's abilities. Michael had on more than one occasion been jealous of Max's ability to manipulate matter, bend molecules according to his will, project protective force fields out of his hand (they were even a pretty nifty green color) and heal.

The biggest twist was Max having saved Michael's girlfriend from dying some fourteen years ago, an act that Michael could never out rival (Michael could never quite accept that Max had done something for his girlfriend that he never would be able to) even though he was eternally grateful that Max had made it possible for Maria to live into adulthood. If she hadn't, Michael's life would have played out very differently.

But if convulsions were a new ability of Max's, it was not going to make it onto Michael's 'Powers Michael wished he had instead of Max'. Just didn't sound like that much fun.

Michael watched Maria reach out and take a hold of Max's hand and a mild darkness zinged his heart. Maybe it was not so much the fact that Max had been able to save Maria from a malignant cancer that bothered Michael, but more the fact that his best friend seemed to have a special connection with his girlfriend. That was not something you wanted your girlfriend to share with another guy.

"Melissa said it was bad," Maria said, her eyes flickering to Michael for support.

Michael pretended he had not noticed her silent request for support and reached for another potato stripe deep-fried in trans fat.

"The weird thing was; I wasn't experiencing the seizure," Max said.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked, shoveling three French fries into his mouth.

Maria shot him a disapproving look and he glanced at her before expelling a defensive, "What, woman?"

She sighed, seemingly deeming him as a lost cause, and refocused on Max. "Melissa said it was a full blown convulsion. That you lost consciousness."

_That you peed your pants_. Michael couldn't help but smile at the thought. Oh Holy Thou Max Evans peed his pants. Yes, Michael had a bone to pick with Max; Max's close sharing of information with Maria over these last couple of months having worked a deep itch into Michael's relationship with Max. An itch that needed some serious scratching.

"I saw this girl."

Michael straightened in his seat, quickly surveyed their surroundings (an old man two booths down, a noisy family of four at the opposite side of the diner), and lowered his voice. "You had a vision?"

Max roughened his hands down his face, a well-known sign to Michael. Max was troubled.

"I was in a city, at night-"

"An city on Earth?" Michael asked fervently.

Max looked at him impatiently. Michael instantly resented him for that look. "Yes. Of course it was a city on Earth."

To his right, Michael saw Maria roll her eyes and felt that familiar twinge in his heart again. Trying to hide his hurt, Michael's tone was cold as he asked, "So, what then?"

"She was running down the street, being hunted by a man. At least I think it was a man. I couldn't see his face."

Maria gripped Michael's hand with her free hand and Michael felt a flutter of lightness ease up on the hot feeling in his chest. "Then what happened?"

"The girl ran into an alley, screaming for help, but no one came for her."

"And you were there? With the girl?" Michael asked.

"Merely as a spectator," Max replied, his voice pained. "I couldn't affect anything. Couldn't touch her, couldn't push the man off her."

Maria gasped at the picture Max was painting. "He hurt her?" Her grip on Michael's hand tightened and he eased his hand out of her grip, earning him a hurt look from her direction, before he used his now freed arm to circle around Maria's waist and pull her to his side. She relaxed into his side, grateful that he had understood her.

"Yes," Max croaked. Apparently not wanting to go into details, Max added, "He hurt her and I could only watch."

"What does it mean?" Maria whispered.

Max rubbed his right eyebrow. "I don't know. Maybe nothing."

"Have you talked to Isabel about this?" Michael asked. Isabel had experienced visions for about five months when she was twelve years old. The visions had been of a green sky, a large building with the appearance of a castle and large ballrooms. Isabel had never figured out what they meant and one day they had stopped.

Max shook his head. "I'm afraid it will work her up." _Remind her of the visions_. The sentence hung between the men, unvoiced.

"She has to know," Maria protested. "This might have something to do with…" she lowered her voice "…your past."

A look transpired between Max and Michael. Michael knew what Max was telling him; protect Isabel at all costs. What could possibly hurt their sister was to remain unsaid. They needed to find out more first. Maria noticed the look and having been a part of the foursome of friends for a large part of her life, she had a good idea what it meant. She decided to partly redirect the conversation.

"And while you were having these…visions," Maria murmured. "You were seemingly having a seizure? Maybe it was just your mind playing tricks. I mean, a lot of weird things happen to your body when you're having a seizure."

"Yeah," Max agreed. "I've considered that. I've even considered my mind using images from my memory that I recognize, tricking me into believing this is a novel experience."

Michael had decided to take a handful of Max's French fries and dose them in a great deal of Tabasco sauce. Max wasn't eating much anyway. "What do you mean?"

Max looked at him straight on and said evenly, "I recognized the girl."

"We know her?" Maria breathed.

Michael remained quiet, watching the emotions play out in Max's eyes. Max had never excelled in hiding his feelings.

"_I_ know her."

"What does-"

Michael interrupted Maria's stricken questioning, "It's from your dreams. It's one of the girls from your dreams." Not a question. A statement.

Max nodded.

"Hmm…" Michael breathed contemplatively, unconsciously tightening his arm around Maria. He was suddenly the one in need of comfort.

Maria, catching on, let go of Max's hand to run the hand through her blonde large curls in a nervous gesture. "I thought they stopped. Your dreams."

"They did," Max replied and leaned back in his seat. "Look. Like I said, I'm not sure if my mind is playing tricks on me-"

"Considering our background, the rational explanation is not the simplest - or the truest," Michael voiced. "We can't rule anything out. We just have to wait and see if it happens again."

Maria looked at him incredulously. "Wait? Until he has another seizure?"

"Maybe it's not seizures," Max answered, saving Michael from a scolding. "Maybe it is some kind of vision and the seizures is the outside camouflage of what's going on. So that no one will question it."

"Well," Maria said. "In that case, I find that camouflage lousy." She folded her arms across her chest. "For the record, I'm firmly against waiting this out and awaiting possible damage to Max's mind and body."

Michael shrugged, seemingly undisturbed by the premise of the experiment. "I say, let's see what happens next. Maybe it'll give us some information. It's been awhile since we found out something new after all."

But on the inside, Michael was worried. What if it really was seizure activity? What if it was an early sign of how years of using otherworldly abilities possibly had degraded a human body? What if it was a sign of something greater? Something dangerous?  
He might not be a fan of Max Evans, most of the time, but Max was the closest thing he had to a brother and he would fight to keep it that way.

TBC… (in a week)


	7. Chapter 6

I apologize for the hiatus - I had technical problems getting this site to upload my chapters :-( But I'm here now :-D

**CHAPTER 6  
**_Tess_

His hands closed around her neck as he thrust into her. The innate need for air made her heart flutter in anxiety, but it was riddled with the taste of excitement. At first, his dominance during sex had frightened her. But the knowledge that she had the ultimate control (after all, he didn't know that she exhibited extraordinary abilities that could kill him if he decided to take this thing too far), always calmed her and made it possible for her to surrender her control to him. At least momentarily.

"You like that, huh?" he breathed, biting into her earlobe hard enough to draw blood.

"Yes," she moaned, gripping the edge of the small utility sink with her fingers to prevent herself from falling off. "Oh yes."

His hands tightened around her neck and she suspected that his control was going to leave a mark this time. She looked up into his dark eyes (he was so turned on) and shivered with the danger she saw in them. Even though his grip was slowly cutting off her air supply, she was not afraid. She knew he would stop; he always had. He liked it rough, he liked to be the man in charge and have his woman subordinate to his demands. And if he didn't stop, she would make him. As simple as that.

She had always been drawn to dark and mysterious men. She had not necessarily been drawn to dangerous men; but the mysterious had always seemed to go hand in hand with dangerous. David Perkins was the latest of her conquests. They had been bumping uglies for about a month now and the sex was still exciting and great. She didn't see the relationship going further than that; David was not the best conversationalist and they didn't have very much in common outside of the bedroom (or the utility closet at his work).

But it was fun and Tess loved to have fun.

The task of balancing her naked bottom on the sink grew increasingly difficult as David increased his speed, getting closer to culmination. As the muscles in his abdomen tightened in anticipation of the release, his fingers tightened around her neck and she instinctively angled her neck backwards, stretching it out in the search of air.

"Please, I can't breathe, please," she croaked, knowing that her helplessness would push him over.

"Yes, bitch. You're loving this, you whore."

Well, she could do without the name calling, but it was all part of the act. And David Perkins sure liked to play.

"Punish me," she whispered. If he didn't come soon, she'd have to bend his mind slightly, which would put a serious dent into the pleasure that was building inside of her now.

A final three hard thrusts and he came with an ugly groan. His body relaxed against hers and his fingers lost their strength around her neck. She took in great gulps of air, like a goldfish on land, and dropped her forehead against his shoulder. Her legs lost their grip around the back of his thighs (he was still wearing his dark grey slacks) and she felt him grow soft inside of her.

There was no cuddling, no pecks of affection or gentle touches, as he backed away from her, rearranged his boxes and zipped up his pants. She slid off the sink that he had pushed her up on just a few minutes earlier, becoming aware of the indention in the soft skin of her ass from the edge of the aluminum sink. She retrieved her torn panties from the floor and sighed mentally. A lot of money went into replacing panties nowadays and she rearranged her skirt around her exposed femininity.

"I guess I'm going commando again," Tess said with a sultry smile.

She watched his eyes darken again as he momentarily looked up from straightening his shirt to let his eyes flicker to her skirt. Tess enjoyed that look more than she should. He could try and dominate her however much he liked, but there was no question who had the power in the end.

"Just don't let anyone see that," he warned with dark jealousy.

"It's not easy to prevent," Tess mused, noticing how the playfulness began to seep out of the room, drowning in the man's possession of her body. "It's quite windy outside. Mishaps are bound to happen."

"If it does, I will punish you like the slut you are," David murmured, walking up to her and surprising her by roughly shoving her up against the wall. The exhilaration was tightly married with the fear. He took a firm grip around her breast through her linen top and twisted her nipple. Not too gently.

_Ouch._ Just as quickly, Tess lost the interest in playing with the man. That fucking hurt.

"Well, I guess you'll have to come over to my place tonight and punish me." By tonight, she would be desiring his games again, she was sure of it.

He took a firm grip on her chin and angled her mouth to his, pressing down and kissing her possessively and abrasively. Stating his claim. "Count on it."

He stepped back from her abruptly and tore the door open next to her. Without any words of goodbye, he was gone. Tess relaxed against the wall. He sure was a dynamic man.

* * *

Theresa Harding didn't particularly approve of the private investigator she had hired. As he slumped down in the chair opposite her at the café, pressing his muddy-colored oily comb-over down in place with his sausage-shaped fingers (Tess shivered) and breathing hard as if he had just run a marathon, Tess was hit with the familiar feeling of disgust. But despite his similarity to an obese mole, with small squinting eyes behind round glasses that made his eyes the size of dinner plates, he was the best in his field. And Tess wanted the best.

With her perfect blonde curls lightly bouncing around her heart-shaped face which was painted to perfection with expensive make-up, Theresa Harding seemingly existed in another universe from the man sitting opposite her. She was a woman with high standards and she had no problem about being openly condescending to what she categorized as lower forms of human beings.

"Long walk?" she asked unkindly, lifting the wine glass to her full red lips.

She ignored the look of disdain that passed over the face of the overweight PI, knowing that his thoughts of her were probably equally low. But he had quickly learned that she wasn't just a beautiful airhead, he couldn't treat her like the perfect Barbie he had been tempted to when they had first met.

He didn't grant her with a reply, instead cutting to the chase. "Let's get down to business, Ms. Harding."

She put the wine glass back on the table, nodding. "Sure. Do you want me to order something for you?" Even though she could be obnoxious, Tess Harding wasn't raised in a barn. She still had manners. Some at least. _You hardly need any food._

As if hearing her silent thought, private investigator Louis Mitchell shook his head. "No, thank you."

He pulled his briefcase onto his lap, wiping a tendril of sweat off his forehead with his free hand. Tess grimaced and had too look away. Her attention was drawn back to the man as he placed a document holder onto the round table. It hardly made a noise when placed, being too thin to contain anything relevant.

Tess felt her disappointment grow tight in her gut. "That's it?" Her tone was bitter and acidic.

The man leaned back in the chair, his breathing still slightly labored. Pressing the briefcase to his chest, he pointed at the documents. "Take a look."

Having zero expectations, Tess snagged up the folder and opened it. On the front page a photo of a young man was staring back at her. Her heart jumped a beat. Forgetting her surroundings and the watchful eyes of the PI, she traced her perfectly manicured finger across the top of the glossy photo surface. The man looked familiar. Why did he look familiar?

Lifting at the edge of the photo, she looked at the document attached to the photo with a paperclip and read out his name.

_Maxwell Theodore Evans._

The advanced class of Twenty Questions started to unfold in her mind as she skimmed the information.

_…found on a desert road outside of Roswell, New Mexico…_

_…adopted by Philip and Diane Evans and moved to Boston…_

_…a girl of approximately the same age, presumed to be the boy's sister, was found in the same state on the side of the road…_

_…no parents have been found or have stepped forward to claim the children…_

_…strange phenomenon…_

_…described as a prodigy…_

_…current occupation: EMT at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston_

Finding herself speechless, Tess turned page after page. The life story of a Maxwell Evans ended and instead she found the photo of an Isabel Sophia Evans, the assumed sister of Maxwell. The account of her life was very similar to that of her brother.

Tess was about to turn the page to the next person of interest when a sentence at the end of Isabel's biography caught her attention.

_Current occupation: Administrative assistant at Elkus Manfredi Architects, Boston_

Her current relationship with the not-really-sure-what-to-classify-him-as man David Perkins, had given her entrance to that same firm several times over the last few weeks. In fact, she'd been doing the nasty in the maintenance office of that exact firm not two hours earlier.

She looked up at the forty something man that was trying to be cool about the vivid emotions displayed across the young lady's face. He fought not to let his elation at shocking her with his investigative capabilities show on his face.

"Where did you find this?"

He shrugged, shrouding himself in a mist of mystery. "I have my ways."

Tess really wasn't up for his evasive tactics. She leaned across the table and sneered, "Where did you find this?"

The man hesitated, taken back by the sudden animosity on the woman's face. How a woman could turn ugly so quickly… "I have contacts…" he let the sentence hang, unwilling to reveal his sources. Particularly this source. What he didn't know was that Theresa Harding had ways of persuasion that was unknown to the human race and he was about to experience it first hand.

Tess closed the document folder and smiled softly. A mean, frightening smile which had Mr. Mitchell squeeze the briefcase tighter against his chest. He had the errant thought of needing to find an immediate excuse to get away as his thought was interrupted. Actually, all of his thoughts were interrupted. Something was cutting into his brain like a butter knife slicing through butter. But the process was precise and less messy. This was not Theresa Harding's first time. She would make sure that the man remembered nothing of the incident. After all, _she_ didn't want to end up in one of those document folders, her whole life on display.

She sifted through his thoughts, jumping from one irrelevant thought to the other like someone would surf the channels of their cable TV. She was disgusted by the more private thoughts of this man who was the last man she wanted to experience TMI with, but it didn't take her long to locate the information she was after. Mr. Private Investigator had after all been thinking about what she wanted to know the exact moment she forced her way into his mind, sending out a beacon for Tess to follow.

She couldn't help but be a tad impressed at what she found. Mr. Louis Fucking Mitchell had connections high up in the food chain. The source he had been unwilling to name was a man called Joel Martin, an FBI agent. Not one of the big shots though; young Joel Martin was the equivalent of an office's coffee boy, but he had the opportunity to acquire information and was because of that slowly climbing the career ladder. Joel Martin's gambling addiction, however, required a constant influx of money, which nosy private detectives could assist him with.

Tess easily abandoned Mr. Mitchell's mind and watched him relax in his chair as she brought the wine glass to her lips. Only seventeen seconds had passed. To the outside observer, it had appeared as if the young pretty lady and the somewhat overweight gentleman merely had engaged in a prolonged staring contest.

To Mr. Mitchell, those seventeen seconds were lost forever. He would never know that the twenty something woman who was once again innocently sipping on her white wine had seen some of the most intimate moments between him and his wife. To Mr. Mitchell, his business responsibilities to this seemingly unpleasant woman had reached the finish line.

"Is it to your satisfaction?" he asked politely.

Tess lightly drummed her fingers against the cover of the manila folder. "You've done well. But I'm still intrigued by how you got a hold of this information."

Her tone was softer than the last time she'd asked and Mr. Mitchell responded accordingly. By relaxing even further. "My lips are sealed, Ms. Harding."

"I understand," Tess smiled. "Protecting your source and all of that."

Mr. Mitchell nodded, relieved. "Exactly."

Tess finished her glass of wine and took the document folder off the table, fitting it snuggly into her Chanel bag. "Well," she rose from the table with her hand stretched out and Mr. Mitchell followed suit. "It was a pleasure doing business with you. The money should be in your account by five o'clock."

Mr. Mitchell gave the woman a tight smile as he shook her hand. He had a great deal of mistrust for the woman and was unsure if he would indeed find a payment of his services. "The pleasure was all mine."

Tess refrained from rolling her eyes. _I'm sure it was._

* * *

There was a knock at her door. Tess smiled to herself and put the wine glass down on the kitchen counter. She walked towards the front door, pausing momentarily in front of the full figure mirror in the hallway to admire her work. She pulled at the left black stocking and dragged her finger along the bottom line of her lip to smoothen the painted lip line. With a final bounce to the bottom of her curls, she stepped up to the door and peeked through the peephole. After all, she didn't want to accidentally open the door to her 73-year-old neighbor while dressed in crotchless panties and a lacy black corset with advanced push-up function. That would surely stop the ticker in the old man's chest in spite of the assistance from a peacemaker.

Mr. Perkins, dressed all in black, was standing outside. She felt heat tighten her core.

She opened the door as far as the security chain would allow and put on a surprised stupid expression. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not alone."

David was not amused. His eyes caught sight of her unclad state (she wasn't really doing a good job at hiding it) and his mouth set into a grim line. "Open the door, Theresa."

It was a command and she shivered with pleasure at his authority. This was a real man.

"Fine," she mumbled, pretending to be annoyed. She closed the door, took a deep breath, unchained the security chain and opened the door fully.

He stepped inside, seemingly taking command of the room. He always did that, Tess observed. He truly did own his space. He had a black duffel bag with him, which he slowly set down on the floor, his eyes never leaving her body. His gaze was really turning her on, just from how his heated gaze kept lingering up and down her body.

He closed the door behind him and pointed to the bag. "Open it."

Tess made a show out of slowly bending down, angling her bare ass towards him as she did, and smiling satisfactorily as he softly groaned.

She was in control.

She slowly unzipped the bag and was slightly impressed that he had, so far, managed to keep his hands off her. Inside the bag she found a brown wig, ropes and a scarf.

"Put the wig on," David ordered, his voice devoid of emotion.

She frowned. He wanted her to be a brunette? Slightly disappointed (she was very proud to be a blonde), she pulled the wig over her head, pushing her blonde hair inside the cap, almost shamefully hiding it.

"And put some more clothes on," David added, which caused Tess' mood to dip further. Now he wasn't only changing her hair color but didn't approve of her body.

Straightening up, proudly straightening her back, she met his eyes without faltering. "Why?" Her tone was sharp, demanding.

He narrowed his eyes, not used to her talking back to him. "Because you're not going to make it easy for me to fuck you tonight. This," he gestured down her barely clothed body, "doesn't put up much of a resistance, does it?"

Tess considered this and mentally took a step back from her self-respect. This was another game. A more elaborate one than usual with all this prop, but still make-believe.

"Fine," she said sourly. "I'm game."

He dragged a lazy finger down the line of her jawbone and gave her a cool smile. "Good girl."

"I guess I'll go and change then," Tess sighed.

"Leave the ropes," David instructed, nodding at the ropes and the scarf that were still in her hands.

"Whatever," Tess replied, dropping the dominating gears on the floor.

As she headed into her bedroom, he called after her, "And your name is Elizabeth. And you are to resist me."

_Elizabeth?_ Tess snorted. He really had thought this through, creating a whole backstory and all. Ah well, as long as it resulted in great sex.

It never crossed her mind that the 'story' David Perkins was making her play out was based on true details.


	8. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7  
**_Isabel_

She responded to the chime of the door bell with a generic "I'll be right there!"

Isabel bunched all the clothes on her bed into one big ball of fabric and threw it into the wardrobe, pushing with her foot to stop the escaping pieces of clothing from tumbling out as she got the doors closed. As she passed the bedroom mirror, she did a double take on her face and sighed. Waving a hand across her lips changed the color of her lips from a striking red to a more subtle pink.

This was not a date, after all.

Pushing a smile onto the lips which color had been 'magically' altered, she opened the door and was met with the calm exterior of her guest. "Liz, hi."

Liz returned her smile and Isabel noticed that the girl looked gorgeous. How she managed to pull that off in a simple white cardigan and a red pen skirt was beyond her. After a careful glance at the girl's face, Isabel reached the conclusion that Liz didn't even have make-up on.

_Unfair genes._

Isabel gestured with a welcoming hand into her hallway. "Mi casa et su casa."

"Thanks," Liz replied and walked past Isabel.

"So what do you want to do?" Isabel asked.

They hadn't really decided on anything in particular when Isabel had asked Liz if she had any plans for the weekend. Isabel had covered it under the topic of 'Let's hang out'. She had a feeling that 'I want to find out everything about you to discern if my sensation of recognizing you is correct' would be a worse invitation.

Liz seemed to be at a loss of options. "Um…" The brunette was looking around her in the hallway, really liking the interior.

"We could watch a movie here, go to the cinema… There's a bar downstairs…"

Liz scrunched her nose while moving closer to the picture frames seemingly randomly thrown onto the wall of the hallway. Isabel took the nose-scrunching as a no.

"I don't feel that much like going out," Liz said and paused in front of a photo of Isabel's brother. "Who's that?"

"Oh," Isabel moved up next to Liz and glanced at the photo. "That's my brother. Max."

"Huh."

Isabel bit her lower lip, silently observing Liz as she appeared to be scrutinizing every single photo of Max on the wall. "Do you know him?"

As if startled, Liz turned surprised eyes to Isabel, "Know who?"

Isabel hitched her head towards the first photo of Max that Liz had noticed. "My brother."

"No," Liz said slowly, dazed, and resumed the observation of the photos. "No."

"Huh," Isabel said, mimicking Liz's non-replies. This was odd. She knew that her brother was a fairly attractive man, but she'd never had a female friend stare so openly at mere photos of her brother. She had experienced the occasional drool fest from some of her female friends upon meeting Max in real life, but that reaction was not connected to mere photo browsing. "Sooo… would you like something to drink?"

"Uh…" Liz voiced, now looking closely at a photo of Max and Isabel as children.

"I've got wine, Coke, OJ, water-"

"Wine would be great," Liz answered while straightening and meeting Isabel's eyes. Liz's eyes seemed to have cleared up and there was an apologetical smile on her face.

_Welcome back to the world of the living, Ms. Parker,_ Isabel mused silently. "Wine it is. You can take a look around if you want."

"Okay, sure," Liz replied.

Isabel kept an eye on Liz while she slowly perused Isabel's small one-bedroom flat. The flat was open-planned, so Isabel had no problem keeping her new-found friend in her line of vision.

When Isabel approached Liz to hand her a glass of red wine, Liz looked flustered. Ashamed even. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to ogle your brother."

Isabel shrugged. "You're not the first one."

Liz smiled knowingly, but refuted Isabel's suggestion of Liz's interest being fundamentally shallow. "I recognize him. But I can't place him."

Isabel felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She hesitated, not knowing if she should share her thoughts or not. But she'd had a good feeling about Liz from the beginning. She had a feeling that the gentle brunette could be trusted. "Kinda like I felt that I had met _you_ before, remember?"

"Hm," Liz pondered and took a sip of the wine. "That _is_ odd."

"Maybe we've met when we were kids," Isabel said. "Just briefly."

Isabel sat down on the plush black sofa and Liz followed her example.

"I do have a very good memory," Liz said. "Usually I would be able to remember who you were if I had met you, but maybe I just remember partly-"

"Like a normal human would," Isabel joked.

Liz laughed lightly. "Sorry, I must seem as a boaster."

Isabel shook her head, sharing in with the laughter. "No no. I believe you. I've heard quite a lot about you at work. One cannot learn that many languages and pick up on so many crafts without having some kind of photographic memory. That's what you have, right?"

"Kinda," Liz answered evasively. She was used to avoiding full disclosure. "What about you?"

When the tables were turned, Isabel mirrored Liz's elusive techniques. "Something similar. But I'm better at acquiring information, so to speak."

Liz raised an eyebrow, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Manipulation?"

Isabel laughed. She had not known Liz for long, but she already felt a certain kinship with her. "Something like that. Especially men."

"I can understand that." Liz placed the wine glass on the TV-table and shuffled up into Isabel's small sea of decorative cushions. "So, are you from Boston originally?"

"From Roswell actually," Isabel replied, also setting the wine glass on the table.

"Roswell?" Liz inquired, her interest tickled. "That's pretty far away. Why the move?"

"My parents. They're from Boston. They were actually on vacation in New Mexico when they…well, stumbled upon us."

Liz frowned, an anticipated reaction in Isabel's perspective. This was not the first time she told this story. Max had warned her that she should be careful about how much she told about their past. It might sound suspicious to the wrong set of ears. But Isabel mostly pushed his fears aside. In her opinion, it would be more suspicious to cover it up.

"Tell me," Liz said, now completely intrigued.

"It's quite a story," Isabel said, slightly self-conscious.

"Okay."

"My brother and I were about four…well, I was closer to five. That's what they estimated anyway, no one really knows."

Liz shifted in her seat, saying nothing. Isabel had a feeling that she had Liz's full attention.

"We were walking alongside a road in the middle of the desert, about ten minutes outside of Roswell, buck naked, completely lost. Both of our memories start about there. Neither Max nor I know how we ended up on the road and where we'd been the years before that."

Well, that was not completely true. Both Max and Isabel, as well as Michael, had in reality another first memory. A memory of climbing out of individual chambers embedded into the wall of a cave. But this detail Isabel was in agreement with her brother not to tell.

"Oh my God," Liz whispered, her eyes growing larger by the second.

Isabel couldn't help but be slightly tingled with the excitement this story always brought. She loved a good story; especially if she was the one telling it.

"That's when my parents, also lost by the way, were driving down the same road. Apparently, we didn't put up much of a resistance when they beckoned us into their car and put blankets around us. The desert is pretty cold at night."

Liz nodded, at a loss of words.

"We couldn't speak at first. Well, we could speak, we just didn't know any words. I was the first one to communicate. I immediately felt safe with those people and was hungry for their love. It was different for my brother. He didn't speak for about four months, not a single sound. Not even to me."

"He was in shock?" Liz wondered.

Isabel shook her head. "I don't think so. He seemed calm enough. I think he didn't trust them. He's always been wary of strangers and of new people coming into our lives. Major trust issues."

"Maybe you were abused before… Maybe that's why you can't remember."

Isabel had heard all the suggestions before. Sometimes she gave into them, agreeing with a 'maybe', but of course she knew that there hadn't been a life for them before they left that cave. Their bodies had merely existed, without an active consciousness. Obviously, she couldn't tell her newest friend that. She would have to stick with the, "Maybe."

"Did they investigate?"

"Sure," Isabel picked up her wine glass again. "Our parents were really adamant about finding some answers. But no one was looking for us, no one came to claim us, no one recognized us. It was a dead trail. So our parents legally adopted us shortly thereafter. We had just moved back to Boston as the papers came through. We lived in this rented house in Roswell for about six months in case someone came to look for us."

"But no one did," Liz murmured.

"No one did," Isabel concurred.

Liz shook her head in disbelief and picked up her wine glass, taking a sip. "That's a very odd story."

"Yeah, it's a good one," Isabel said with a small smile.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Liz wondered, looking Isabel straight in the eye. "Not knowing where you came from?"

Isabel shrugged. "Not so much. I think it bothers my brother more. He's never really found his place. He's something of an introvert, I would say."

Liz glanced over at the photos of Max. Isabel had plenty. Max was a big part of Isabel's life.

"He seems sad," Liz said quietly, a statement that surprised Isabel. Not many people had made that observation. Certainly not from a photo.

"What makes you say that?"

Liz took another sip of her wine and said wistfully, "Something about his eyes."

The words lingered in the silence between them and Isabel cleared her throat, picking up a remote control from the TV-table to turn on the stereo. As soft jazz music started to fill the room, Isabel turned her attention back to Liz. "So how about you? Your parents are from Chicago?"

Liz nodded, a cloak of sadness coming down across her face. "Both of my parents were born there and so was I. We moved to Boston when I was around five."

"Why the move?"

Isabel figured out too late that it was a bad question. It was like a light went out in Liz.

"We couldn't stay in the house after my mom died," Liz's voice could barely be heard over the music even though the volume was soft. "It was too painful for my dad."

"Your mom died?" Isabel breathed and reached out for Liz's hand. She squeezed it in support. "I'm sorry."

Liz attempted a smile. "Thank you."

Because of Liz's subdued mood, Isabel decided to not ask further how Liz's mother had died. Instead she asked, "So you're close with your dad then, I presume?"

Liz's smile acquired more life. "Very. He's my everything."

"Your everything?" Isabel teased, wanting to kill the serious tone of the conversation. "No boyfriend? Fiancé? Husband?"

Liz laughed. "No. I'm not really…open for that."

"Oh," Isabel said, afraid that she had stepped on Liz's toes. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were…"

Liz's laugh grew more honest and it was a nice laugh, Isabel decided. It made Liz bloom back into that beautiful creature she had seen earlier today.

"No no," Liz got in between the laughter. "I'm not a lesbian. I'm very much into guys, I assure you."

"Okay," Isabel let out a fake big breath. "Not that I have anything against gays-"

Liz smiled and took another sip of her wine, "Me neither. Absolutely not."

"So what then?" Isabel asked. "Have you just come out of a bad relationship or something?"

"Let's just say that I've never found the right one. Men…well, I should say boys, don't really get me. Once they realize that I'm not just pretty but also intelligent and have fairly high standards on how to be treated, they kinda…lose interest."

Isabel nodded. Liz was definitely her soul sister. Or something. "I hear you, girlfriend."

Isabel would find that the two girls had many things in common as the conversation flowed easily into the early hours of the next day. Isabel might just have found a friend for life.


	9. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8  
**_Liz _

The pain pierced through her abdomen, hot and all-consuming as she doubled over. It was by will alone that she remained standing.

"Oh please, stop, please…"

She wasn't aware of the hot tears running down her cheeks as she saw the green sky reflected in the puddles formed in the mud; the oddity of the color of the sky momentarily grabbed her attention.

_Where am I?_

Another wave of pain ripped through the core of her body, making her thoughts scatter and her will go into hiding. She crumbled to the ground, her hands sinking into the cold mud.

_Aislin._

The word (or was it a name?) floated through her head, spoken in a man's deep voice. Though it was spoken, it was like a subdued scream echoing into her very being. She had the intense feeling that she should remember something. Someone.

"Wake up." She had to wake up. It had to be a dream. The sky wasn't real. Its green color was fake.

_Wake up._

She had heard those words before, spoken to her in a child's voice. As if commanded by the words, her surroundings started to waver and went in and out like a bad TV reception.

_Wake up._

She was on the ground. The soft and wet mud had been replaced by hard frozen concrete. But the pain remained. It had spread and was now encompassing not just her abdomen but her arms, legs, head, even out in the very tips of her fingers.

"Stop bleeding, please."

Her eyes flew open and she was in her apartment. Safe, dry and warm in the comfort of her bed. But her heart was beating an erratic rhythm in her chest and she couldn't stop shivering. Her teeth were clattering and she fumbled to get the comforter off her, the feeling of being entrapped engulfing her.

She ended up standing in the middle of her bedroom floor, hyperventilating, trying to convince herself that she was home. That she was whole, unhurt. Not in pain.

Sinking to her floor, the only residing pain from the nightmare was the realization that it had started again. The nightmares were back.

* * *

"Rough night?"

She jumped at the question, being exceptionally on edge the morning after the return of the nightmares that had plagued her as a child. It didn't help matters that the man staring down at her, with two cups of coffee in his hands, was David Perkins.

She managed to remind herself to stay in the present and replied to the question. "I couldn't sleep."

He stared at her and she felt darkness creep inside her. Then he moved and the darkness momentarily lost its grip on her. He offered her one of the cups of black caffeinated liquid. "Coffee?"

She shook her head, wondering if the man in front of her was capable of empathy. "I'm more of a tea drinker."

He was smiling. Not the sympathetic smile of someone that could relate to having a bad night of sleep, but the gloating smile of someone wishing you harm.

"Right," he said, apparently in good spirits. Little did Liz know that his happy mood was due to the fact that he'd fucked her last night. Well, not Liz exactly, but the fantasy of Liz. Portrayed by the lovely Theresa Harding. Even though it had been good, (chasing the fake Elizabeth through the apartment, tying her up, tearing off her clothes and forcing himself inside of her) he was expecting the real thing to be much better. And he intended to make that fantasy come true. "You ready to get started?"

Liz wasn't ready for anything. She wanted to curl into a fetal position in the center of her bed, pull a thick blanket over her head and cry. Instead she nodded. "Sure."

David put the cups of coffee down beside her and came around the table, taking the seat right next to her. Why he didn't opt for sitting opposite her, which would have made working through the plans easier, was beyond her. Her throat constricted as the strong scent of his cologne (had he dropped the bottle on himself this morning?) eradicated a majority of the breathable air. He was sitting so close that his elbow was rubbing against hers.

"Um, maybe it's easier if you sit on the other side," Liz said, not wanting to be impolite. She did, after all, want a good working relationship.

"Easier for whom?" David asked, leaning in close to her cheek. So close that she could feel his breath against her skin. "This way it's easier to…instruct you."

She was holding her breath and was feeling faint. Maybe even nauseous. It was hard to think, hard to function, with him invading her personal space. She tried to pull in a deep breath without him noticing (but from his knowing smug smile, she suspected that she had failed), and forced authority into her trembling frame, "You don't have to instruct me, Mr. Perkins. I realize that you have a couple of years of experience on me," from the way she saw his eyes darken out of the corner of her eye, she figured he was placing a double meaning on her 'lack of experience', "but I'm perfectly capable of handling myself. I would prefer it if we could work at this as a team, with equal parts."

A small smile crept onto his lips. "Of course, Ms. Parker." He pointed to the other side of the table. "So you would prefer me on the other side of the table?"

She couldn't hide the relief in her voice. "Yes, please. I think that would make it easier."

She was a bit surprised, to be honest, that he had granted her suggestion. Maybe working together wouldn't be so difficult after all. And maybe she only imagined the feel of his fingers brush across the back of her neck before he moved to reposition himself in front of her.

Isabel chose this moment to interrupt. She had an impeccable ability for good timing. Or, as David Perkins saw it, Isabel had impeccable bad timing.

"David, sorry to interrupt."

Liz would later tell herself that she had made it up, but at that moment she was certain that she had seen death in David's eyes. Directed at Isabel. It was Isabel's indifference to David's reaction that made Liz later question her sanity on the matter.

"There's a George Campbell on the phone. He says it's urgent."

David groaned. That was a phone call he was not able to ignore. He shot Liz a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. None of his smiles ever really did. "Please excuse me, Ms. Parker."

Liz gave him the ghost of a polite smile in return.

As soon as David had left the conference room, Isabel took David's seat and grabbed Liz's hand. "What's wrong?" There was a deep concerned urgency in her question that managed to warm the chill that David's presence had created. "You're pale as a sheet." She looked behind her, as if checking so that no one could hear her. "Did he say something to you?"

Liz swallowed and shook her head. "No, no. I just…I had a bad night."

"You sure?" Isabel asked and added in a whisper, "Because he can be quite…pushy. David, I mean. You just have to ignore him. He did the same thing to me in the beginning."

Afraid that the discussion might get her into trouble at her new job if it were to get out, Liz insisted that she'd only had a bad night. She had after all had a bad night. David had just made her day even worse.

"I just didn't get much sleep, but thank you for your concern." Liz hoped that Isabel understood how grateful Liz was about the concern. She didn't have many people around her that worried about her and it was refreshing.

Isabel did not look convinced by Liz's statement. The dark circles under Liz's eyes and the unruliness of her hair was not how Liz usually presented herself.

Isabel let go of Liz's hand and looked at her, rather sternly. "If you need to talk, I'm here for you. It will be in total confidence; I won't tell a soul. I'm the queen of keeping secrets."

Liz managed a smile and there was real warmth in her voice as she said, "Thank you, Isabel."

"Okay," Isabel nodded and with a final glance over her shoulder at the shadow of the person she'd had vivid conversations with just two nights before, Isabel left the room.

Liz's resolve briefly crumbled, her hands starting to shake so violently that she had to pull them up against her chest and press them down under the table. _Relax, Liz. Relax._ She couldn't let David return and see her like this; weak and vulnerable. She had a feeling he would descend on her like a shark. She tried taking deep slow breaths through her nose. _Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exh-_

David re-entered the room, looking happier than a clam. "Now, where were we?"

Liz had never been the hateful type and had never wished harmed to a single human being in her life, but right that second she wanted David Perkins to burn in hell. Or at least she wanted to smack that grin off his face. Instead of resorting to uncharacteristic violence, Liz cleared her throat. "We were just starting."

"Right," David agreed. "I had moved to the other side of the table." He winked at her, as if she had been a silly child to suggest such a thing and her hands tightened into fists underneath the table.

A green screen flashed before her eyes. Liz inhaled sharply, but the green tint was gone with the next blink.

"Elizabeth?" David questioned, looking at her strangely, his annoying smile slipping.

She was about to reply that she was fine when it felt as if her hands were covered in something cold and wet. She looked down at her hands clenched in her lap and saw them coated in dark damp mud. Her next breath got stuck in her throat, her trachea constricting with the beginning of a panic attack.

"Elizabeth?"

She turned frantic eyes towards her colleague and as she did her hands warmed and dried. Her gaze flickered back to her hands, only to find them clean and dry. Just like before.

"Are you alright?"

She closed her eyes momentarily. _I'm losing my mind._ She tried to reign in her emotions. She was just upset, tired and stressed out. She was fine. She was fine. _Try telling yourself that._

She opened her eyes and met David's dark ones. He was looking at her, not with concern, but how a doctor might observe a person having a mental breakdown (if that person was on the other side of a window, inside a padded room, wearing a restraining jacket); calmly and with straight pity.

Liz felt utterly alone. David Perkins was freaking her out at a point when she was at her most fragile. She would not give him that power over her. She forced herself to square her shoulders and raise her eyes to meet his ridiculed glare straight on. "I'm fine. Thought I saw a spider, that's all. I'm not on the best of terms with spiders."

David narrowed his eyes and unbeknownst to Liz, found her regained resolve to be a strong turn on. To see the weakness in her watery and frightened eyes turn into fierce willpower almost gave him an instant hard on. He could imagine it then. How she would look restrained under his weight. How she initially would be afraid and how she would later decide to fight him. It was in her nature. A gorgeous mixture of weakness and survival. David knew that he could never make Elizabeth Parker come to him willingly, he was good enough at reading people to figure that out. But David Perkins always got what he wanted, it was almost more exciting when it had to be taken by force.

Liz was unaware of the plans sifting through her colleague's head as she tried to sort out the papers in front of her. Had she caught a single glimpse of his thoughts, she wouldn't have hesitated in handing in her letter of resignation that very same afternoon.


	10. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9  
**_Maria_

She was still fuming as she knocked on Max's door. How her boyfriend even could come up with the idea to even suggest putting up his Metallica posters all over the living room walls in their _new_ apartment was beyond her. Sometimes he was so dense it made her want to tear her hair, or his, out. She was kind of enjoying the mental image of ripping off Michael's brown hair when Max opened the door.

"Hey," he said, giving her that shy half-smile that Maria adored. How this person could hold onto that tad of innocence after everything was a mystery.

"Girlfriend," Maria answered and pecked him on the cheek. "How are you?"

Max let her pass into his small flat of one bedroom and open-spaced living area that co-served as kitchen and dining area.

"Any more seizures?"

Max mumbled a negative and added, "But the dreams are back."

Maria stopped dead in her tracks. "The dreams? The ones you had when you were younger?"

Max absent-mindedly scratched behind his ear. "Uh-huh."

Maria sank down on the armrest of the sofa. "Are you okay?"

Max nodded. "The dreams are okay. Better than having seizures or visions or whatever they are."

Maria could feel a 'but' hanging in the air and voiced it, "But…?"

Max leaned against the wall, looking troubled. Well, at least more troubled than usual. Max was always troubled, there were only various degrees. "I used to have dreams of two girls. Never at the same time, but usually I saw them both an equal amount. Now… I've been having the dreams for the last four nights and it's only been her. The brunette girl. The girl from my seizure."

Maria didn't want to burst his bubble or anything, but "Don't you think that's because it was _her_ you saw in your vision? That it has influenced your dreams?"

"Maybe," Max mumbled. "Of course I've considered that as well. But I feel this…tug. As if she's beckoning me, calling for me. I never felt that before. It was mostly the blonde girl that was…um…calling for me."

Maria watched Max's ears turn red and she smiled. She had a feeling she knew just how the blonde girl was 'calling' for Max, but she didn't want to embarrass her friend further by addressing that. Instead, "Do you believe the dreams are real? That they are communicating with you? I mean, _normally_ that would be a ridiculous notion, but you, my friend, are not really normal."

Max rubbed a hand down his face. "I've always felt that they were more than just dreams. But I don't know if that's because I'm reliving something that might've happened or if they are somehow visions of a future, of something that hasn't happened yet. Lately, I've been thinking a lot about the accident."

Maria frowned at his jump in the conversation, not following. "What accident?"

"The one that happened on the day I was adopted- Did I tell you about this?"

Maria nodded distractedly, trying to conjure up the details of that memory. "Yeah yeah, you did. Long time ago."

"The driver - the mother - was killed-"

"She was speared," Maria filled in and grimaced. Even though she had only had the accident described to her, not having to live them herself, the details made her wince.

Max nodded. "Right. And I think the girl was dead as well."

Maria's train of thought ceased. The girl? "You never told me about a girl."

Max looked surprised. "I didn't?"

"I'm pretty sure you didn't."

"There was a girl - the daughter - thrown out of the car. My parents hadn't seen her as they went to get help, but I saw her from where I was sitting in the car. I distinctly remember her being really cold and her lips being blue."

"Dead," Maria echoed.

"I didn't understand it then, that she was dead. I was obsessed with the blood. She was covered in blood. So I begged her to stop bleeding…"

Maria's mouth fell open, stunned, as she put the pieces together. "You healed her."

He nodded. "I think I did."

Maria tried to clear her thoughts. "You didn't just heal her, you brought her back from the dead."

"I willed her to stop bleeding."

"Oh my God. Max… Did you know? Did you know what you had done?"

Max shook his head. "I realized a couple of years later. I was watching some medical show on TV and there was a girl that had drowned, her lips blue. I was instantaneously taken back to that day and that girl on the ground and I realized that she had been dead. When it had happened, I thought she had been asleep and as I got older I chalked it up to her being unconscious. I never really thought about those lips and how she was so still. She wasn't breathing."

"What's the connection?" Maria wondered. "Between the accidents and your dreams? And between your vision?"

"I didn't really take a good look at that little girl. I was too freaked out about the blood. But lately I've been wondering if it wasn't the same girl. The same girl that has been in my dreams and now in my vision, only grown up."

"But how could you-"

"Know what she would look like?" Max shook his head. "I think I just made it up. Maybe I hadn't really processed the accident since it happened when I was so young, and that was my way of processing it. By making her the same age as me, visiting me over and over again in my mind."

Maria frowned. "How would that help you to put the accident behind you?"

Max shrugged. "Beats me."

"And why would your mind put her in another life-threatening situation, like in your vision, to traumatize your memory of her even more?"

"It doesn't make any sense, I know," Max murmured. "The most plausible explanation is that the girl in my vision is really not the girl from my dreams which is really not the same little girl from the accident. I've just conjured up this image of a girl and I'm plastering her everywhere, because it's familiar to me."

Maria worried her lip, a deep thinking frown forming between her eyebrows.

"What are you thinking?" Max wondered.

"I'm not convinced," Maria said. "There's just too many coincidences. Sure, your mind might just be making all this up, but if you brought that girl back from the dead, you might still be connected to her."

Maria saw her long-time friend freeze. She swallowed, knowing that her hypothesizing might hurt her friend who was already suffering from a chronic anxiety problem. "What you did to me, when I was sick. That was some major interfering with nature. I was supposed to die. When you removed my cancer, you formed a connection with me." Max was mimicking a statue, so Maria continued, "We both know it's there, even though we rarely speak of it. Like when-"

"When you were craving cookie dough ice-cream and I got the mental memo even though I hate cookie dough ice-cream and went and got some for you? Maria, that's just intuition. And the result of spending way too much time with you."

"No," Maria shook her head. "No, remember when I broke my leg and you felt it?"

Max took a deep breath, but remained silent.

"And how whenever you try out your protective force field, I can literally feel energy being pulled from me, draining me. As if I'm this big accessory battery to your force field or something."

Maria rose and walked up to Max, locking green eyes with amber. "Max, what would happen if you didn't only heal someone from a major disease, but you actually brought someone back from the dead? You really don't think there would be some kind of residual trace? A connection? A pull? Something? You pumped energy into her to heal her. She's carrying some of that energy." Maria let out a humorless, disbelieving laugh. "For all we know, her life energy is only Max energy, since her own life energy had left."

"Christ, Maria," Max whispered, distancing himself from her by walking into the kitchen and starting to rummage through the refrigerator for something to drink. He was suddenly very thirsty.

"Think about it, Max," Maria stepped around the refrigerator door. "Doesn't it make _more_ sense that it's actually the same girl from the accident that you're seeing now? Maybe she's actually in danger. Maybe she's trying to contact you."

Max opened a Coca Cola, the frizzing sound, which was a consequence of carbon dioxide escaping, interrupting their conversation. "Then what about the blonde? Who is she? You? Because I've only ever healed two persons in my life. You, and that little girl."

Maria rolled her eyes. "I have no idea who the blonde is. Maybe it's your dream girl. Your fantasy girl. The way you keep describing her…"

"Hey, it's not some sex dream, okay," Max interrupted. "She's just a lot more…forward than the brunette."

Maria smiled. "Right."

Max sighed. "This is serious, Maria. What if there's some truth to what you're saying? What if there's a girl out there with a connection to me? What if she has been altered by what I did? What if she's been having abilities of her own? What if-"

"Whoa whoa," Maria stopped. "We don't know, okay. Don't get all worked up about something you don't know. Maybe…" Maria paused, an idea coming to her. "Maybe you could describe what she looks like and I could draw her. Like the police does with the face of a wanted person. Then we might be able to track her down. If she even exists."

Max pondered this. The idea was not a bad one, Maria could tell. And she was quite a good artist. Maybe, if everyone else could see who Max was seeing, he wouldn't feel so responsible and weighed down by the situation.

Happy that she finally could help Max in some way, Maria made the decision for him. "Let's do it. Do you have paper, pencil?"


	11. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10  
**_Tess_

Tess observed the blonde tall beauty from the adjoining hallway for a couple of minutes before she made her presence known. After all, this meeting was important. _If_ Isabel Evans was connected to Tess' past, she had to thread carefully to be able to get what she needed out of Isabel.

"Excuse me," she said softly, interrupting Isabel in her reorganizing tasks of her work station.

Isabel looked up, brushed a tendril of light hair out of her face, and answered breathlessly, "Can I help you?"

Tess extended her hand. "Sorry to disturb you, but my name is Tess and I'm-"

A light flickered on in Isabel's eyes. "You're David's girlfriend."

"Something like that," Tess confirmed evasively and Isabel took her hand in greeting, "I'm Isabel."

"Nice to meet you," Tess smiled. "It's not my intention to disturb you, but you… do you have a minute?"

Isabel let her gaze quickly flutter across her working area, as if to make sure that everything would be under control for the next couple of minutes without her. "Sure."

"It's just… I'm kinda new to Boston," which wasn't really true, but Isabel didn't know that, "And I'm just holed up in my apartment at the moment, waiting for David to come and visit me."

Isabel grimaced in compassion. "That sucks."

"And except for David, I don't really know anyone here."

Isabel nodded, seemingly awaiting the punch line.

"It was actually David's idea," Tess effectively added an embarrassed laugh, "I don't want to intrude…"

"I could show you around," Isabel offered, having picked up on Tess' intentional unease.

Tess' face broke out into a smile, breathing in relief. "Could you? Really?"

Isabel waved the gratitude away with her hand. "It's no problem. Of course you need your personal guide of Boston. I bet it's torture just sitting around and not having anything to do. We could squeeze in some shopping too if you want. How about this afternoon?"

"Oh," Tess breathed. "You're amazing. David told me that you were kind but…"

"For once…" Isabel smiled and gave Tess a conspiratorial wink, "David's right."

Tess returned the smile. She was in.

Then Isabel smacked her forehead with the back of her head. "Shit!"

Tess frowned. "What?"

It was Isabel's turn to look embarrassed. "It's just, I just realized that I've already got plans."

"That's okay-" Tess started.

"I was going to help Michael pick out an anniversary present for his girlfriend. Oh sorry. Michael, that's my friend."

Michael. Tess smiled. Michael Guerin. Yes, she knew who he was. His biography had been in the last papers of the yellow Manila folder. But even before she had read out the words, which could've been an account of her own life, Tess knew who Michael Guerin was. They had met, on several occasions.

Michael Guerin and Theresa Harding, compared to Maxwell and Isabel Evans, both lacked the detailed account of how they came about walking naked on a deserted road. Michael Guerin had only made it onto the FBI's list because of his close connections to his friends and the fact that he also was sans parents with a memory originating at an age of four. Michael had, similarly to Tess, been placed at the orphanage in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Michael had been found outside an alien-themed diner in Roswell, eating garbage, clad in mismatched clothes that he had encountered during his dumpster diving.

He hadn't spoken the language, in fact he had been called a wolf child for the first two months, acting rabid as soon as someone tried to get close to him. According to the FBI-file, it had taken four full-sized men to restrain him and bring him in.

It was at the Christian Children's Home that the two children had encountered each other briefly in the stops between foster homes. Neither of them were considered angels (one foster parent had accused Michael of being the spawn of the devil) and their visits in different foster homes were usually short-lived. As they got older, the were increasingly difficult to re-home, due to their accumulating years and the accumulating rumors.

Tess had somewhat better success, being a pretty blonde girl, but it usually didn't take long for the latest foster family to figure out that she was trouble.

Because they were both troublemakers, they had been carefully separated at the orphanage. Consequently, Tess knew of Michael, admiring his work from afar, but had never actually spoken a word to him.

The FBI-file had in its blunt documentation stated that Michael had eventually ended up in a foster home to stay, shortly before he had requested emancipation of minor at the age of seventeen, packed his bags and moved to Boston. The facts were less detailed on the reason behind his move and how he had ended up with the Evans', but Tess hadn't been surprised when the familiar face of the troubled boy from her childhood had shown up in a folder together with the Evans siblings.

Now, she looked at Isabel and saw her chance to kill two birds with one stone. Meeting Michael again would be fun. She wondered if he would remember her, if she had made a lasting impression.

"Maybe I could come with?" Tess asked innocently.

"Seriously?" Isabel asked doubtfully. "I don't know… Michael is not really a people-person."

"I'm just really starved for human contact," Tess said, half-begging, and smiled inwardly at her 'human contact'-reference.

"I don't know…" Isabel was not convinced.

"I really need to meet some new people. We don't have to go sightseeing, we could just go shop. Maybe I could help out with some ideas for his girlfriend's anniversary present."

Tess could tell that Isabel wasn't convinced, but the shorter blonde was certainly wearing down the tall one's resolve.

"It'll be a blast," Tess added and pushed hopefulness into her pleading eyes.

That did it.

"Okay, sure," Isabel sighed. "Michael could use some socializing anyway; it'll be good for him."

"Great," Tess smiled. "Meet up here at…?"

"I get off at 4.30, so around 4.40?"

"It's a date," Tess confirmed with a brilliant smile. "Thank you, Isabel."

"Don't sweat it," Isabel said, a twinge of worry in her voice.

Tess' smile was victorious as she walked down the corridor, the extra spring in her steps making the curls on her head bounce. Isabel had every reason to worry. She was about to let the wolf child out to play with other children.

* * *

_Michael_

This had to be one of the worst side effects of being in a relationship. Anniversaries. Well, not anniversaries specifically, rather having to give gifts. Which ultimately meant that he would have to spend a day in agony, going through shops which were filled with humans.

And to top it off, Isabel had asked to meet up outside her office claiming that it was easier. This meant having to hit public transport (even though Maria spent a lot of time nagging him about it, Michael still hadn't gotten a driver's license), which had been crowded with smelly humans and screaming infants and had made his mood even fouler. It only served Isabel right that, as a consequence of everything she made him go through to meet her, she would be taking a very grumpy Michael shopping

Why hadn't she just come and picked him up, like she normally would?

As he got closer to the entrance of the office building, he realized that Isabel wasn't alone. A petite girl was standing next to her, talking animatedly with her hands. Why did she look familiar?

Isabel spotted him and raised her hand with a "Hey, Michael," as if she was standing in a crowd and having been made invisible by all those other people. Not standing alone with a woman that barely reached up to Isabel's chin. Michael rolled his eyes and gave a short sourly wave back. She smiled at the response.

_Yes, Isabel, I can see you. Congratulations._

Michael stepped up to the couple, shot a cold look at the girl and asked "Who's this?" before Isabel had a chance to greet him.

Isabel smacked him over his arm. "Behave."

Michael was not looking very impressed when he turned his attention back to Isabel. "I thought we were going shopping. So what's this?"

Isabel turned to the girl, her cheeks blazing with the shame Michael had caused her. Michael didn't care. She _knew_ how much he hated this and then she still decided to invite someone else. A stranger.

"There are no words," Isabel said to the girl. "I'm sorry."

"That's alright," the girl answered lightly and offered Michael her hand. He just stared at it. The stranger lowered it again, her smile wavering. But, she didn't appear intimidated, Michael noted. They usually were. Instead she continued, "I'm Tess. But we've already met."

Michael squinted at her suspiciously.

"You have?" Isabel asked in surprise.

And then it hit him. "Theresa Harding," he stated, some emotion creeping into his stony voice.

"It's Tess now," the girl corrected.

"How do you know each other?" Isabel asked and Michael refrained from rolling his eyes at her, again. Isabel would eat this all up.

"We were at the same orphanage in Albuquerque when we were young," Tess explained lightly.

Michael narrowed his eyes further. He didn't trust a girl who were so chipper about that place. Sure, it had been a good enough orphanage, but he had hated it there.

Isabel's eyes widened. "You were? That's… a coincidence."

_That's one way to put it,_ Michael thought. He was naturally suspicious of most things.

"You'll have some catching up to do then," Isabel added, hoping to ease the tension.

Michael snorted. "Yeah, right."

He didn't remember much about Theresa Harding, but he remember her being trouble. Much more so than he was at the time. That was saying a lot.

"I think it's a time we both rather would forget," Tess mused, looking sympathetic.

_Damn, she still has it_, Michael thought as he watched Isabel nod emphatically. Theresa, or Tess, had been the queen of manipulations. He was pretty sure she hadn't changed all that much since he saw her last.

"Is she coming with?" Michael asked cooly. _Let's get this shit over with._

"Is it okay?" Isabel asked.

_Now she asks_. Michael shrugged and donned his most bored expression. "Whatever."

"Let's go then," Isabel said and turned to Tess in a hushed tone, "He'll come around."

But Michael couldn't help but wonder if Tess had any ulterior motives about being here. He didn't much believe in coincidences. And this would be a big coincidence.


	12. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11  
**_Max_

He caught a glimpse of her a couple feet ahead. Her chocolate-colored hair was billowing behind her as she ran, her laughter echoing off the walls.

"Wait!" he yelled after her, but her response was even more laughter as she disappeared around a corner.

The walls were moving, like waves, and it was making him dizzy. The floor beneath his feet was moving, making him stumble. But he needed to get to her. He turned the corner and she was gone. "Hello?" If he only knew her name.

"Hello," a smiling voice said behind him. Turning around, the evasive brunette was standing not five feet away.

"Who are you?" he asked breathlessly, rooted in place, afraid that she would disappear if he moved.

She angled her head inquisitively, "Have you forgotten me?"

"You're the girl, aren't you? You're the girl from the accident."

She smiled. "Have you forgotten me?"

He shook his head. "No. I haven't. What's your name?"

"You know my name," she replied.

"No," he breathed. "No, I don't."

"You whisper my name," she continued.

_Aislin._

Max turned around at the name whispered across the hallways. When he looked back, the girl was not alone. The blonde girl was standing only a few feet away from the brunette.

"He's mine," the blonde whispered darkly.

They were usually not in his dream together, had never co-existed in the same space. Now he could see why. The blonde had turned ugly as she had seen the brunette.

"No," the brunette objected softly, peacefully. "He never was."

Max felt like a parrot, repeating himself in a very uncreative manner, but addressing the blonde this time he asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm your wife," she replied with a hard face.

He frowned. "I'm not married."

"You were," the blonde answered. "Until death do us part."

A shimmer next to the blonde pulled his attention back to the brunette and he watched her start to fade. "No," he pleaded. "No, don't go."

"It's just me and you now," the blonde smiled and someone was rustling him.

He came to, a stranger leaning over him. "Mister? Are you okay?"

Self-consciously, Max abruptly straightened up in the plastic chair. He was on the subway and he had fallen asleep. The commuters around him was looking at him strangely and he became worried that he might have been talking in his sleep.

"I'm fine, just a dream," Max answered the worried passenger and after a final odd look, he left Max alone.

Max was a novelty for approximately ten more seconds before the curious commuters had returned their attention to their iPads, their phones, their newspapers.

"I'm fine," Max mumbled to himself, rubbing his forehead.

_Aislin._

* * *

_Isabel_

"You look tired." Her statement was met with a non-committed wordless shrug. "Are you sleeping okay?"

"My dreams are back."

Isabel was not surprised to hear it. "I know. Maria told me."

Her brother scratched his eyebrow, his eyes closed as he slumped on her couch. "I got a name."

"Of the girl? Which one?"

"I think… I think it was the name of the brunette. Aislin."

"Has the blonde girl returned? Maria said you were mostly dreaming of the brunette."

"What hasn't Maria told you?" There was a faint trace of humor in his voice, but Isabel was worried. She used to joke about his dreams, calling them teenage sex fantasies, but Max was starting to look sick. She wondered if he was eating right; the clothes seemed to hang off him like the clothes on a scarecrow. The circles under his eyes were as deep as wells and he looked depressed. As if the world was weighing down on his shoulders.

"She's just worried about you, Max. We all are."

Max rubbed his hand down his face. "I'm fine."

"And when you're not dreaming, are you sleeping then?"

"Kinda."

"What about Maria's theory? That you might have a connection with that girl you saved? That she's calling for you or something."

"I think she might be right," he sighed. "Which scares the living daylights out of me."

Isabel sank down on the TV-table, facing Max, and placed a hand on his knee. "Max, listen to me. Maybe you should see a therapist."

Max opened his eyes and looked at her incredulously. "What?"

"I don't mean that you'll go there and tell _everything,_ just so that you can talk to someone. The therapist won't know all the backstory, but maybe he can help you sort out what your dreams mean. And maybe.. maybe he can prescribe you something. To help you sleep."

"Don't be ridiculous," Max said, annoyed, and stood up. "I can figure this out."

Isabel followed his restless pacing with concerned eyes. "You're not alone in this, Max. You don't have to do everything on your own. You know that we'll help you. But maybe you need some professional help too. Maybe this is beyond our capabilities."

"Then what?" Max asked, a hint of anger in his usually calm voice. "What if I _do_ start on medication and I'm too knocked out for her to contact me? What if it ends the visions, our opportunity to find more things out?"

"Maybe that's for the best!" Isabel cried, getting to her feet in frustration. "This might kill you! Look at you! Are you even eating?"

"Of course I'm eating," Max replied tensely.

"I can't watch my brother waste away because of some answers," Isabel said, tears breaking her voice. "I can't lose you, I can't."

Max could hear her loneliness, the little abandoned girl she was deep inside, but he couldn't focus on her right now. His head was hurting. He leaned against the wall, his forehead hitting the white plaster, and felt the anger seep out of his tired body. "What if she needs my help?"

Isabel's desperation cooled at his words. Her brother's concern for a stranger was admirable, but it was so typical of him. To help others at the risk of his own life. He had done it before; risking his secret and his quiet existence by healing Maria. "Max, what if she's not real? Would you let yourself go insane chasing someone that's not real?"

"She's real," Max mumbled against the wall.

"But what if she isn't?" Isabel persisted.

Max didn't answer. He had obviously made up his mind. This girl was important enough to him to risk his well-being, his relationship with the _real_ people around him.

"Will you stay here tonight?" Isabel whispered.

He started to shake his head in negative, but Isabel pressed on, "For me? I don't want to be alone."

Her brother usually couldn't resist being there for her, but he had a big aversion to letting her baby him.

She watched him slump in resignation. "Of course. Sure."

"Thanks," she whispered. "And tomorrow, will you come with me to the office party?"

He groaned softly and she couldn't help but laugh quietly.

"I'm not really a social butterfly, Iz," Max said, telling her the obvious.

"You promised. Do you remember promising to go?"

"You were blackmailing me," Max mumbled, pushing off the wall and heading back to the couch.

Isabel wouldn't deny that. "Maybe I was." But she was positive that she needed to get Max to the party. He needed to meet some _real_ girls. And maybe Elizabeth Parker was just what he needed.

Maybe Isabel would have reasoned differently if she had seen the drawing Maria had made, which was neatly folded up in the back pocket of Max's jeans. The drawing of Max's mystery brunette, which bore an uncanny resemblance to that very same Elizabeth Parker.


	13. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**  
_Michael_

He had found the article about her in the abandoned newspaper on the kitchen table in his fourth foster home. The headline had read; NINE-YEAR-OLD GIRL MIRACULOUSLY BEATS INCURABLE CANCER. But it had been the photo of that nine-year-old, not the sensational heading, which had pulled him in.

Her hair had been really short, similar to an army cut, but her brave and proud smile had transfixed him. He had cut the article out and placed it under his pillow. He would pull it out every night before going to sleep, reading the article over and over again.

_The doctors had given Maria DeLuca a maximum of five weeks left to live and the girls' parents were distraught._

_"We were prepared to lose her, any day," Amy DeLuca accounts. "I couldn't sleep; I was constantly checking on her to see if she was breathing."_

_The parents paint a picture of how, in a way, they had already lost their little girl._

_"Her personality had changed," Robert DeLuca explains. "Weird things were coming out of her mouth."_

_Personality changes can be a devastating symptom of brain tumors. The girl also suffered seizures in the final stages of the disease, eventually being almost completely paralyzed on the left side of her body._

The article went on to describe what the parents had to go through, how their daughter's illness eventually had ruined their relationship but how they had stayed together for the sake of Maria. The punch line came at the last third of the article, as the reporter narrated the remarkable story of how Maria woke up one day with the paralysis gone and her personality seemingly restored to that of a healthy nine-year-old.

The article finished off with how specialists were left speechless without being able to offer a plausible explanation to account for the girl's full recovery. It was not up to the doctors to put the Miracle-stamp on the case, but the reporter wasn't afraid to use that label. Maria DeLuca lived because of a miracle.

It wasn't even necessarily the inexplicable nature of the girl's changed destiny, but rather the short sentence in the middle of the article that had captured Michael's interest.

_It was shortly after the farewell visit of one of Maria's classmates that Maria had ostensibly recovered._

At the time of the article, Michael Guerin (at the time: Michael Dwight) had just started to realize that he was not like other children. If he thought about something hard enough and added some anger, it would blow up. Like a small bomb. He had managed to make lamps explode as well as pillows and even scrunched up a bully's bicycle like it was made of paper.

So upon the discovery of the article, Michael had been certain that Maria DeLuca's recovery wasn't miraculous. There was someone out there, just like him, that had helped this girl. Because even though he had never told anyone, he remembered waking up in a chamber filled with goo, pulling an organic tube of some kind out of his throat, pushing out through a membrane to end up naked on the floor of a desert cave, like a newborn foal. Before leaving the cave, he had seen two other chambers, which had been empty. He had been the last one out, but not the only one.

This had given Michael hope. In a world he didn't understand and where he felt utterly different, the sign of someone like him out there was a relief. Right then, Maria DeLuca had been his only clue.

It would be years before he could follow up on that trail. Stuck in the foster care system, he eventually ended up in a foster home that he quite liked, at the age of fifteen. The young mother seemed to understand him and he found himself in the unfamiliar situation of not wanting to disappoint her. So he cleaned up, became a good kid, started to get good grades at school. About eleven months after he had moved in and five months after he had taken their surname, Guerin, the mother got stomach cancer. The cancer was malignant and quick. With the fading news article still under his pillow, Michael attempted to save the woman he had grown to love, but whatever had helped Maria DeLuca was not part of Michael's repertoire.

Instead, he had to watch the only person he had ever acknowledge as family die.

He had never been very close to the husband. The husband spent a lot of time at work and Michael were never able to really get to know him. After the loss of his wife, the man fell into a pattern of drinking which he had been a slave to for many years before meeting his wife. He lost his job, he became abusive towards Michael, and Michael began spending nights away from home. Michael was getting older and had no interest in going back to the orphanage at that point. Being unemployed, the husband required the monetary contribution the state provided for letting Michael stay with them to support his drinking habits. So he let Michael stay.

It was with the help of a teacher that Michael got the support and information on how to apply for emancipation. The state granted him a right to his own life just shortly after his seventeenth birthday. Just two days after that, Michael had moved to Boston, the article about Maria DeLuca in the back of his pocket.

He turned over in their double bed and put his arm in the dip of her waist, pulling her back up against his chest. A soft moan of satisfaction left her lips and he kissed her temple.

He had greatly disliked (hate is a very strong word) Maria DeLuca when he had first met her. She had been very different from the soft-looking happy girl in the photo in the newspaper that had etched itself onto the retina of his memory. After their first meeting, he would have been happy never to see her again (and the feeling was mutual), but his ulterior motive of finding Maria's possible savior had forced him to stick around.

Maria would have said that it was meant to be. According to Michael, there was no way it was meant to be. Nothing that was 'meant to be' could be so frustratingly difficult.

During the 'Introduction to Maria DeLuca'-phase, Michael was sure he was being tested - or punished - for something. Maria was everything about the human race that Michael had tried so hard to avoid. She was challenging, loud and physical (really, did she _have to_ touch him all the time?). Her whole being brimmed with emotions and, God, did they overflow over and over again. Michael often questioned her self-control. Did she really have any? She could yell at him one second and cry in happiness the next. There was no question why she had gone by the nickname of Hurricane DeLuca in her high school.

But slowly, through the ups and downs, through the yelling, the fighting and the crying, through the laughter, the hugs and the smiles, Michael had started to stumble and eventually fall. And when he fell, he fell hard.

Now, almost six years later, he couldn't remember a life when he hadn't loved Maria DeLuca. Even though they fought about every third hour and made up every fourth hour of every single day, he would fiercely protect her with his life. Even though she continuously challenged his thoughts, his remarks and his ideas, her intelligence and the same emotional whirl that had once annoyed him, kept him alive.

The mobile phone on his nightstand vibrated and Maria moaned again. This time in annoyance.

"Leave us alone," she mumbled.

Michael unhinged his arm from Maria's waist, rolled over on his back and pressed the 'Answer'-button. "Speak."

"Hi," no introduction was needed, he would recognize Isabel's voice anywhere.

"Hey," he replied. He still hadn't forgiven her for bringing a stranger along on their shopping trip, even though said stranger had assisted in finding him a very good anniversary present which had earned him a very nice night with his beloved.

"Let me speak, okay?" Isabel requested. Apparently she could tell that Michael was still a bit miffed about the Tess-incident.

"You have the floor," Michael sighed.

"I'm sorry for bringing Tess," Michael remained silent, so Isabel continued, "But she was in desperate need for company and I thought she could help with the gift. And she did, didn't she? Did Maria like it?"

"Don't do that," Michael said. "Don't try to turn this into a _positive_ thing." Even though the gift had been genius.

"Right," Isabel breathed. "Sorry. I guess, I just wanted to ask you about Tess."

Michael sighed and the left side of the bed moved as Maria rolled onto her stomach, curling up along his left side. Her full lips placed a morning kiss on his jawbone and he managed a smile in her direction before returning his attention to Isabel. "What do you want to know?"

"What do you know about her?"

Michael twirl a strand of Maria's long blond hair between his fingers and his replies were chipped. "Not much."

"Was she a friend of yours?"

Michael snorted. "Hardly."

"Why the cold shoulder yesterday? She was just trying to be friends."

"I don't trust her," Michael felt Maria's eyes on him as he continued, "She was the Great Manipulator at the orphanage. She could make people do anything for her."

"That was a long time ago; you were kids. Most people do a lot of things they are not proud of when they're kids."

"Sure," Michael said. "I just don't trust her. She was playing you."

Maria was tracing his pectorals with her index finger and Michael knew that she was listening intently to his side of the conversation. Maybe she could even hear Isabel on the other side of the line.

Isabel laughed. "No, she wasn't. I'm not stupid, Michael."

"I'm not saying you are," Michael said simply, seriously, "I'm just saying that she's really good at what she does."

There was a a pause, and Michael suspected he might have hurt her feelings. But it was the truth and Michael was usually, if not always, telling it like it was.

"And you don't think it was a coincidence that she came to see me?"

"I don't believe in coincidence."

"_But_ she knows my boss, it's not that odd that our paths would cross."

"Maybe knowing your boss is a coincidence, but hooking up with you… I'm not so sure that's all it's set out to be."

"So what do you think she's after? If she's 'conspiring', as you're trying to claim?"

She was making fun of him, thinking he was being dramatic.

Michael sighed, getting annoyed that he was never taken seriously. "I have no idea. Maybe she's an agent, trying to fish for information."

"She didn't ask a single conspicuous questi-"

"Of course she didn't," Michael snapped, "I told you; she's smart. She wouldn't show her cards that early in the process."

"Oh come on," Isabel said, catching onto his annoyance. "You think everything is a conspiracy. Maybe not everyone that is trying to be friends with us is out to get us. Maybe no one knows about us. Maybe no one suspects us. Shouldn't someone have locked us up by now, if that was the case?"

"Maybe that's what Ms. Harding is about to do," Michael's tone was acidic.

"Oh shut up," Isabel sighed, obviously fed up with the conversation. "For future reference, I would like you to respect my friends, okay? Don't treat them like shit. You have no idea how embarrassed I was at your behavior."

"Come on, Iz-" Michael tried. He was feeling the regret creeping up on him. He had been pissed at her that day, sure, and he had been looking for some type of pay-back, but he never meant to hurt her.

"Next time, keep your opinions to yourself!"

"Isabel…" But the line had been disconnected.

Michael sighed in frustration and placed the phone back on the night stand.

"Wow, that went well," Maria voiced.

Michael looked down at his girlfriend, tensing at the fight he was almost certain would come. Girls always had each other's backs and even if he had been unsure that Maria had heard Isabel's normal speaking voice on the other side of the line, he was certain that Isabel's yelling voice hadn't gone undetected. And there was no way Maria was siding with Michael on this.

"Don't start," Michael sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

"Michael," Maria said softly, beckoning his attention. When she had it, she continued, "This obviously doesn't concern me-"

"Right," Michael concurred and watched Maria's eyes narrow in mild annoyance at being interrupted.

"_But_… even though I trust your instincts implicitly, you should really try and treat your sister better."

"She's not my sister," Michael mumbled stubbornly.

Maria gave him a look spelling _Really? Are you really going down that road?_

"I know," Michael agreed, kissing the top of her head. "I know. I'm an ass-"

"Michael, no," Maria said gently, scooting up his naked body, ignoring the shivers that raced through her own at the friction, and lined up her face with his. "You're not an ass. You're just stubborn as hell."

"I'm trying to protect her," Michael said defensively.

Maria captured his lower lip between her teeth and gently tugged on it, before answering, noting his eyes turn darker, "I know. But try and be a bit more smooth about it."

"This Theresa- Tess Harding. She's not a nice person," Michael objected. "What I really wanted to do was to forbid Isabel from ever talking to her again. Not doing that was me being a nice guy."

Maria laughed lightly. "You big lovable idiot."

If it hadn't been for the pure love in her voice, he might have been insulted. Instead he kissed the lips that were now very close to his. "I love you."

His sincere tone cooled her laughter. "I love you too."

Catching her lips with his, he used his arms to pull her up the full length of his body, positioned so that she was straddling his waist. Her hair flowed down around her face, the ends tickling his chest as she looked down at him.

"Can we stop talking about Isabel now?" Michael asked.

"Sure," Maria smiled and leaned down to start a trail of kisses down the center of his chest.

"Thank you," Michael murmured.


	14. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

_Alex_

"You look like crap," Alex informed bluntly, before he could stop himself, when Liz opened the front door in response to his knock.

She smiled weakly. "Jeez, Alex. Thanks. You really know how to charm a woman. No wonder you're still single…"

Alex gripped his left pectoral, imitating the instant pain in his heart, "Ouch." But he sobered up quickly. "But seriously, Lizzie, are you sick?"

Even as the question left his mouth he found the question implausible. Liz had never been sick a day in her life. Well, at least not during the time he had known her. Which was odd in itself, but Alex had just put it down to good genes.

Liz's response was in line with his own thinking. "Me? Sick? Nah."

She felt thin in his arms as he hugged her. Alex was no big guy, having been nicknamed Scarecrow Al growing up, but suddenly he felt as if his arms would break her fragile frame.

"You've lost weight," he noted.

"I guess the diet eventually worked," Liz joked.

Alex wouldn't let her talk her way out of this. "What's wrong?"

Before Liz could answer, Alex was struck with the memory of their previous conversation, on the eve of her second day at her new job. "Has he done something to you?"

His voice was appalled, frightened, as he grabbed her upper arm to stop her from fleeing to the kitchen.

"Who?" she questioned, her voice giving nothing away.

"That that…guy you were working with." Alex could feel white anger tearing through his chest. If that man had so much as laid a finger on her…

She gently removed his hand from her arm, shaking her head. "No. Relax, Alex. I'm just sleeping badly."

Alex wouldn't let it go. "Because of him, right?" He shook his head in anger. "I _knew_ he would find ways of messing with your head."

"Calm down, Alex," Liz pleaded, looking at him strangely. Maybe because she had never seen Alex angry.

"You would tell me, right?" Alex looked at her sharply. "You would tell me if he hurt you in any way."

"Of course I would," Liz said and forced herself to smile. "Alex, it's okay. He hasn't hurt me. He's still acting a bit strange, but I guess that's who he is. At least according to his assistant, Isabel."

"Then what? Why are you not sleeping…or eating from the looks of it?"

"Bad dreams," Liz answered evasively. Her night terrors had stopped before she met Alex, so she'd never found a reason to tell him about them, even though she had shared a lot of things with her best friend over the years.

"Can I get you anything?" Liz asked, hiding behind the role of the hostess.

Alex sighed. Maybe he was not going to get any more information out of her than that. "You got beer?"

"Sure," Liz replied lightly and headed for the kitchen.

"I feel like we should go out to eat." He almost had the urge to manually force food down her throat, to make sure that she was eating. He knew that eating disorders was a big thing for a lot of girls, but he never would have put Liz in that category. Firstly, she seemed to be able to eat just about anything without putting on weight and secondly, she had never made any comments about her weight. Come to think of it, the comment about the diet finally working for her at the door just then had probably been the first time Liz had talked about her weight with Alex.

To Alex's surprise, Liz agreed. "Okay. What do you feel like?"

What contained the most calories? "Pizza?" His friend needed some fattening food.

Liz handed him a cold beer. "Okay. Let me just change into something different."

Alex watched her head for her bedroom, the sweatpants barely being hold up by her tiny bottom, the Harvard University hoodie almost drowning her. Whatever had happened to his friend in the last two weeks had transformed her.

* * *

_Liz_

She hadn't really felt like going. The nightmares were now a constant in her life and she had resorted to trying to avoid falling asleep. The body usually gave up a couple of hours past midnight, giving her about an hour of troubled sleep. Sometimes tendrils of the dreams managed to enter her REM-sleep just before the alarm sounded.

So when Isabel Evans had reminded her that the office party was this week, Liz had started to protest. Of course she couldn't go. She could barely stay on her feet. She was so tired that she felt faint and kept stumbling when she walked. She was extremely aware of the whispers around her at work. They probably thought she had a drinking problem.

She knew that she looked horrible (the look on Alex face the other night had confirmed that), but with the lack of sleep came the nausea, preventing her from being able to keep anything down. At the moment, she was surviving on strawberry yoghurt, apparently the only thing that would remain in her stomach and didn't tell the vomiting center in her brain to 'Go!'.

But Isabel had been adamant. Of course she had to go. Apparently, Isabel was bringing her brother and she really wanted them to meet. Liz had tried to suggest that she'd meet Isabel and her brother one-on-one later on instead, but Isabel had said something about her brother being very busy. Isabel bringing her brother had on the other hand presented Liz with the idea that she could bring plus ones. So she had asked Alex to come. At least then, she would have a familiar face around and someone to blame when she wanted to leave early (Alex having to get up early or something).

This had, naturally, been too good to be true. Alex had other plans. After apologizing profusely and suggesting that he would cancel his plans to go with her, Liz had waved his words away assuring him that she was a big girl and could do this on her own.

Which presented her with the next problem. None of her dresses fit. She hadn't fully realized how much weight she had lost until Alex basically had tried to jam a slice of pineapple pizza (she hated warm fruit on top of food) down her throat. Looking at the normally snuggly fitted little black dress looking baggy around her center, she had the evidence slapped in her face.

_I'm booking a therapy session in the morning._

She couldn't go on like this. The therapy must have helped last time (although she had no idea how), since the night terrors had stopped. She obviously had to resume the sessions.

Opting for a red blouse with a black skirt, and a tight belt at her waist to hold everything up, she was only five minutes behind schedule as she strapped her feet into a pair of black Mary Jane's.

* * *

_Max_

This was going to be a long night. Max looked around the crowded room, recognizing a total of zero people. This was going to be great (insert sarcasm here).

"Don't pout," Isabel said behind him.

"What am I doing here, Isabel?" Max asked, unintentionally sounding like a five-year-old boy that hadn't gotten candy at the store like he wanted to.

"You're meeting my friends and maybe making some of your own at the same time," Isabel explained, for the umpteenth time.

"I have friends. I don't need any more friends."

Isabel rolled her eyes at him. "Except for the obvious fact that you need an attitude adjustment, you also need a life. And the friends you have right now are not providing you with the life you need. You need to get away from that life, okay? You need a normal _human_ life."

She probably had a point, but the ever persistent headache that had been heckling him for the last two weeks was slowly wearing him down to a point where it was impossible for him to think rationally let alone plan for an alternate future. The music and the constant buzz of a magnitude of conversations didn't really have the most soothing effect on his aching head.

"Besides," Isabel interjected. "There's someone I want you to meet."

Max groaned. Introducing his sister: Queen of Matchmaking. For some unknown reason she had taken it upon herself to fix Max's non-existent love life. By now, Isabel had probably introduced him to at least fifty percent of Boston's finest eligible females. Sure, some had been really nice and he had gone on a couple of dates. But considering what he was going through at the moment, finding a potential girlfriend was not at the top of his priority list. But what else could he do? He was already here, he might as well try to enjoy himself before his brain exploded. Which seemed to be the final goal of the relentless throbbing of his head.

"There she is," Isabel said, pulling on Max's sleeve, causing him to stumble after his eager sister.

"Liz," Isabel said to the back of a petite girl.

The woman turned around and Max felt his grip on reality falter. He vaguely noticed the small smile on the woman whose face he recognized oh so well, before he swayed on his feet.

"Liz, this is my br-" Isabel's words died on her lips as her eyes turned to her brother, who looked ready to pass out.

"Are you okay?" The concerned voice belonged to the brunette woman. It was the same voice. Exactly the same voice. Max struggled to breathe. He tried to find the mental manual for 'How to get air into lungs', but was pulling up short.

"Max?" Isabel repeated, but the question reached Max as though from a distance and she appeared to be blurring around the edges.

"Put your head between your knees," the girl's voice instructed.

"Yeah," Isabel said and Max could hear the very sharp fear in her voice. "Yeah, do that."

Max vaguely felt Isabel's hand at the back of his neck, forcing his head downwards. He had to grab the edge of a nearby table to prevent his helpful sister from making him fall on his face.

Then he felt someone else on his other side, supporting his weight. "Try to take deep breaths."

_I don't know how_, Max thought frantically. He was going to pass out.

"Calm down and breathe," the girl's voice was suddenly very clear, very much in stereo, right next to his ear. It was soft, calm and reassuring and he felt the constricting muscles of his throat loosen and he sharply inhaled. Air had never tasted so good.

"There you go," the voice continued, "Slow, deep breaths."

He got the fuzzy feeling of mimicking the Lamaze technique for giving birth, before his skipping heart (having been scared into slight arrhythmia by the lack of oxygen) started to slow down to a regular beat.

"Max? Are you okay?"

His sister was worried. Hell, he was worried. He was pretty sure that he would see the girl from his dreams - from the vision - standing next to him when he would straighten up and open his eyes. How could that be? _You knew she was real. You knew it._ Yeah, sure. But he had never anticipated her to just walk straight into his life, on introduction by his sister nonetheless.

"He had a seizure not too long ago." Isabel was probably addressing the girl now, her words hurried - frantic even.

"Maybe we should get him to lie down," the girl answered.

That voice. It was like honey to his ears. He couldn't wait for his breathing to slow any more, he had to see her. Had to make sure that she was really there.

Straightening up, he felt his sister's grip on his arm tightening. "Max, are you sure-"

"I'm okay," he replied, breathless.

"Take it easy," the girl's honeyed voice cautioned.

His body unfolded into its full height and his eyes came to rest on the girl. And the world tilted slightly again. She was beautiful. Even prettier than in his dreams, if that was possible. Compared to his dreams, he could finally look at her up-close, in full detail. And it was exquisite. Her eyes were a dark brown and there was a small furrow of concern between her eyes, which did nothing to retract from her flawless pale skin. Her cheeks were flushed, from heat or the incident he couldn't tell. Her hair was free around her shoulders, normally straight but wavy on this evening. The dark brown of her hair was accentuating her eyes and as he could do nothing but stare at her, those eyes seemed to gaze into him, from something deeper than… He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He was surprised when he was able to speak, "I'm sorry."

The girl hadn't looked away, even though he knew that the amount of time spent staring at her had reached ridiculously impolite proportions. There was warmth in her eyes and a real concern for this man that she had just met. He noticed her full pink lips move, as if she was about to say something, but stopped herself.

"Why are you apologizing?" Isabel questioned beside him. He had forgotten that she was there.

"I'm sorry," Max repeated. He was apologizing for the staring and tried to will his eyes to look away. But he couldn't. He was stuck in those dark brown pools of her eyes.

"Do you need to sit down?" the girl asked. Her voice was soft, melodic, and he felt his heart stumble. He slowly shook his head and swallowed. His mouth was very dry and his heart appeared to have jumped from its functional position in his rib cage to his throat. Throbbing in its constrained space in the rhythm of da-dub.

"I think you should sit down," Isabel said and her tone was sharp. She was taking control of the situation, prepared to order her little brother around for the sake of his own well-being.

The familiarity of his sister's command momentarily snapped him back to his body and he managed to tear his eyes away. "Maybe I should."

Isabel exhaled, relieved. "Good. Here, come with me. There's an office back here."

He was very aware of the fact that the girl was following. He was hyperaware of her presence, even envisioning the sound of her breaths (short and erratic), the pressure of her blood flowing through her veins and arteries (smooth but hurried) and the temperature of her skin (warm, almost feverish). But of course, he was only imagining. His mind was playing tricks on him.

Inside the office, Isabel pushed him down in an office chair on wheels, her hands fussing over his forehead, down the sides his throat, doing all the things a worried mother would do to check on her ill child.

Max's attention was on the small woman standing quietly in the shadow of the doorway. Now, as she was watching from the shadows he couldn't help but notice how thin her skin looked, almost translucent, and the faint bruises under her eyes, as if her nights had been as fruitless in giving her sleep as his had.

"I didn't catch your name," Max implored softly.

He noticed her hesitantly bite her bottom lip, a motion that made his knees feel weak. Thank God he was already seated.

"It's Liz," the girl stepped closer. Hesitation in her every step, as if he was a wild scared animal and any sudden movements would make him run.

"You're warm," Isabel murmured. "Too warm."

Max caught her fretting hands and held them in his as he met his sister's worrying eyes head-on. "I'm fine, Iz."

"Maybe you're running a fever."

Max lowered his voice, making it less likely that the third person in the room heard him. "Not that likely, is it?"

"Well, a lot of unlikely things have happened recently," Isabel snapped, her voice a tad louder than normal speaking volume. She caught Max's stern look of 'Think before you speak' and added in a quick mumble, "Sorry."

"I'm fine now, Iz. I don't know what happened."

"You looked like you were going to faint," Liz offered.

Max gave her a soft smile. "I think I was." He held her eyes for a second too long again. _But you stopped me._

Isabel gave a short laugh, making Max look at her. He imagined he could still feel the girl's gaze burning into the side of his face. Isabel tied off her laughter with a hint of embarrassment, "That was one hell of an introduction, wasn't it?"

He looked at her again and saw her small smile, her eyes not leaving his face.

_She can't look away either._

There was a frown on confusion between her eyes, where there before had been concern, and Max forced himself to break the eye-dialogue, suddenly feeling slightly wary. It truly was as if she could see straight into him and he couldn't help the familiar feeling of anxiety brush his heart at the secrets he harbored. Even though he knew that it was ridiculous. It was not like she could read his mind.

"I hope it's a good sign," Isabel said, her voice still contained a slight tremble.

Max blinked and tried to will his enchantment with Liz away and focus on his sister. Liz's look made his skin feel like it was burning and he realized that he needed to collect himself; breathe. Regretfully, he turned to Liz and asked softly, "Liz, could I please have a moment with my sister?"

Liz first looked surprised and then ashamed as if she suddenly realized that she might be intruding on a family moment. "Sure, sorry. Of course."

"Just a second," Max clarified, not wanting her to get the wrong idea.

Liz nodded. "I'll be outside."

As Liz closed the door behind her, Isabel looked at Max inquisitively. "Why..?"

Max realized that his hands were rolled into tight fists and as he let them unroll, the words came out with his next exhale, "It's her, Iz."

"Yes, that's Elizabeth Parker. The girl I was telling you about."

Isabel wasn't getting it. Max shook his head, frustrated, and pulled the wrinkled paper with Maria's drawing out of his back pocket. "No, it's _her_." He held the drawing up to Isabel, the drawing that looked suspiciously a lot like Elizabeth Parker. "The girl from my vision. The brunette from my dreams."

Isabel stared at the drawing before backing away so suddenly that she hit the desk behind her, causing the desk lamp to fall to the floor. But she didn't appear to notice. "What?!"

Max watched Isabel's pupils dilate and make her light brown eyes seem black and he added, "You said you recognized her. Maybe that's why."

"I dreamwalked you," Isabel exhaled, "When your dreams started years ago. I saw her."

Max nodded slowly. "Exactly."

"But how could…This is… Oh my God," Isabel sank down on the desk behind her. "How is this possible? She's right there. The girl you thought has been calling on you."

Max shook his head, doubtful. "She can't be. She didn't recognize me. Not the way I recognized her."

"But in a way she did," Isabel said slowly.

"What do you mean?"

"She saw photos of you in my apartment and there was something about how she reacted. Like she knew you, even though she didn't admit to it. I don't think she could figure it out herself, so she probably wasn't too keen on talking it out with me - someone she had just met."

"She's alright then," Max said slowly. "Whatever I saw in the vision; either it hasn't happened or it won't. It might just've been a conjuring of my own imagination."

"Maybe," Isabel nodded, exhaling. "Jesus. This is weird. Even by our standards."

Max nodded and looked to the door out of which Liz had disappeared. As he tried to grasp the fact that he had just found the girl he had unconsciously been looking for over the last 20 years, he realized that his headache was gone. Evaporated.


	15. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14  
**_Liz_

His reaction had stopped her from reacting. There was no other way around it; Isabel's brother had had some kind of episode upon seeing Liz. He looked like he was seeing a ghost. But the weirdest thing wasn't Max's reaction, the weirdest thing was how she had _felt_ him react. She was almost positive that she could feel the muscles constricting around his throat, how his heart jumped into irregular beats, how he couldn't catch his breath and most of all the confusion and panic that he was sending out in waves.

Her therapist had once called her a great empath. He had figured that she was almost too sensitive, too much in tune with other people's feelings, to be healthy. In a way she could almost feel what people around her was feeling. That had contributed to her pulling away from society, becoming increasingly introverted. But that 'ability', or whatever you wanted to call it, had disappeared about the same time as her dreams when she was a teenager.

So maybe that was it. Maybe just like her dreams, her empathic abilities had returned. Maybe Max's reaction had been so strong that she had empathized with it. But she wasn't convinced. There must be a limit to how much one could empathize.

When Isabel and her brother emerged from the office, Max looked better and Liz felt a calm spread through her at the sight of him. He seemed okay. His eyes seemed worried until they found her to the side of the wall, almost as if he had been afraid that he might have lost her.

_You're being ridiculous_, Liz scolded herself. Why would this Max worry about if she had stayed or not? If it was her, she would have been more relieved to have seen the person that she had just appeared weak in front of leave.

Liz's eyes flickered to Isabel and came to a halt. Isabel was pale behind her shimmering pink make-up blush. With Max now appearing calm and collected, Isabel had donned the impression of being shell-shocked. The roles had flipped. The sibling pair approached Liz, Isabel with a tentative trembling smile and Max with an apologetic one. Liz was looking at him closely, she couldn't stop herself.

Max Evans was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Not just handsome, in the masculine sense of the word, but beautiful. With long dark lashes that had laid against his olive skin as she had watched him from above, when he was trying to catch his breath. His dark brown, almost black, hair was a little bit long and curled at the tips that caressed the back of his ears and the back of his neck. She wanted to push her hands through his hair and see if it was as soft as it looked. His eyes… Liz suppressed a sigh as Max came to a stop in front of her. She watched him watch her, saw the amber of his irises shift in nuances of gold and with him this close she could smell him. A fresh smell of cologne and something else. Something uniquely him.

It was Max that spoke first. "Sorry about that. I haven't been sleeping very well lately. Low blood sugar or something."

_Or a full-blown panic attack_, Liz thought and first now noticed the blue nuance under his eyes, how his cheekbones were a little bit too protruding. There was a fierce light in his eyes, but his gaze was guarded and shadowed. She unconsciously bit her bottom lip, wondering what had happened to this man; why was he so sad? She caught his eyes looking at her lip and she released her bottom lip with a start and felt heat creep up her neck and warm her cheeks. She caught Max look away and imagined a flush to his cheeks as well before she let her eyes drop to the floor.

"Yeah, I really shouldn't have forced him to come here tonight," Isabel added. "He did warn me that he wasn't feeling very well."

Liz looked up as Max smiled, "I'm glad I came," the smile crooked and shy. A modest expression for a man of his age. She felt the heat in her cheeks spread out in her body. He was, if possible, even more beautiful when he smiled. The smile momentarily chased away some of the shadows in his eyes.

"I wanted him to meet you," Isabel clarified.

It was like watching a game of table tennis, the siblings alternating between speaking, so tightly that they didn't leave any room for Liz to add her two cents. But in a way she was glad that Isabel was there, glad that she didn't need to say anything because she wasn't sure she'd be able to find the words right now.

"She's been talking about you a lot," Max added and Liz felt the blush warm brighter, wondering what Isabel had said about her.

"I just really like you and I was sure that Max would like you as well."

It was as if their nerves were frizzled and they were trying too hard to act normal, making their conversation a sprint rather than a marathon.

Fueled by the heat in her body, the gaze from Max Evans and the unimportant dialogue between the siblings, Liz couldn't stop the laughter. The sound stopped them both short and Max looked at her curiously, Isabel a bit taken back.

"Sorry," Liz said, acutely aware of his eyes on her. "You don't have to apologize. It's great to finally meet you, Max." She met his eyes and paused for a second before tearing her eyes away to address Isabel, "And Isabel, you don't have to justify bringing him here."

Isabel shook her head. "I wasn't-"

"How about we start over?" Liz suggested.

That seemed to calm them down and they exchanged a look of relief before they turned back to Liz and Max extended his hand. "I'm Max, nice to meet you."

Liz took his hand and her breath got stuck in her throat. His skin was just as warm as it had looked and his much larger hand folded around her smaller, almost as if in an embrace. But what made her snap her gaze up to his in shock was the current she was sure had passed between their palms as they connected. His eyes were dark, confused.

"Li- Liz Parker," Liz stumbled. She didn't want to let go. She liked how his hand encased hers. She liked the warmth of his skin and how his hand was roughened by life but not spoiled by rough manual labor. She liked how she imagined being able to feel him through that hand, through that connection of skin.

She had no idea how this must have looked to Isabel or how long they were standing there, but Isabel's voice revealed that she was a bit perplexed by the situation, "Ahem… You want me to take a photo, or what?"

Max looked at his sister with an embarrassed glare and the moment was gone. Liz let his hand slip out of hers and she took a half step back, trying to reign in her emotions. This was one of the strangest nights of her existence.

_Who was this man?_

* * *

Liz had been left alone while Isabel had been distracted by a phone call and Max had gone in the search of refreshments. She was really enjoying herself, for the first time in long. The trembling of her hands and the nausea at the back of her throat was barely a whisper, as though Max's presence were keeping it at bay. Liz laughed softly to herself as she looked out over the sea of people. She had lost count of how many times during that night that she had briefly entertained the rather ludicrous idea. She knew that the answers were most likely very simple (she had been concerned about the man, hence had got feelings of sympathy during his episode and she was thoroughly enjoying the sibling's company, thus her own symptoms of illness diminishing), but there was still a nagging voice at the back of her head telling her differently.

"Ms. Parker," a voice she knew far too well spoke beside her.

Her good mood instantly vanished without a trace and with accumulating dread she turned towards the voice. His eyes were burrowing into her, slowly filling her with that almost familiar feeling of death.

"Mr. Perkins," she acknowledged with a nod.

"Please, I prefer David," he said, taking Isabel's abandoned seat.

_And I prefer Liz, just not from your mouth._

She was appalled by her own thoughts. She didn't like the cool, abrasive person she turned into in David Perkins' company, but she couldn't help herself. The spines were pointed outwards, like a hedgehog in full defense.

"You're looking very beautiful today," David continued.

She forced a smile on her lips, feeling the nausea resurfacing. "Thank you."

"Are you having a good time?"

"Yes, thanks." Liz made sure to keep her answers short. Not that it was done with any difficulty. She was more interested in striking up a conversation with a mummy than with Mr. Perkins.

"You're very tight-lipped tonight," David observed, his tone acidic. Liz had a feeling she was slowly aggravating him. Being an attractive man (if you liked that type of guy), he was probably not very used to rejection.

She looked over at him, politeness drained from those correctly observed tight lips. "I'm just waiting for my company to return." _So you better leave._

Even though she didn't say the last sentence out loud, she got the impression that he had understood her from the way his eyes darkened further. She swallowed. Why did he intimidate her so? Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

"Do we have a problem, Ms. Parker?" David asked sourly.

"No," Liz answered, being careful not to answer too quickly or too slow, and instead putting assertion into that two-lettered word.

"_Is_ there a problem?" The voice came from her left and even before her sight could confirm what her ears already knew, her whole body seemed to relax into his presence.

"I don't think we've met," David said tightly and Liz's eyes flickered from Max to David.

Max offered Liz the glass of wine he had retrieved, his mouth saying nothing but his eyes speaking volumes. Liz could feel in the air how David Perkins didn't appreciate to have to wait for his answer. Max's fingers brushed Liz's as the glass transferred hands and the suffocating coldness of David's presence was pushed back by the warmth of that small touch. Max's eyes on her were concerned, but there was a fierce masculine stand to his body, something Liz couldn't place at first. It was not until later that she realized that he had gone into a protective mood. Like a lioness protecting her cub. Or a caveman protecting his woman.

"I'm Max," Max said easily, seemingly unaffected by David's bad manners. Having freed up his right hand by giving Liz one of the glasses, Max offered David his hand in greeting.

David took it and apparently he went for trying to squeeze Max's hand into pain. Liz eyes moved from this obvious pissing contest to Max's face, which wasn't showing any sign of what was going on. Max's face was cool and…kinda friendly. Liz's mouth had fallen open in surprise. Considering how Max had basically lost control of his body when meeting her for the first time (at least, it had seemed as if the actual meeting had been the catalyst of Max's near fainting spell even though improbable), Liz would never have guessed the control Max seemed to have in that moment. Even though she was positioned closer to David than Max, there was a complete trust in Max's ability to protect her and that knowledge washed away the last piece of darkness David had exerted on her mind and body.

"David," David grunted, evidently not too happy about how the situation was being played out.

The men aborted the manly greeting and Max took the free seat next to Liz.

Her heart rate increased. This mainly because Max had foregone the polite distance he had kept between them before and the side of his thigh was almost touching hers.

"So, Max," David struggled to regain some of his former control. "Haven't seen you around here. Do you work here?"

"No," Max took a sip from his bottle of beer. "I'm a guest."

"Oh," David said, shooting Liz a dark look. "A guest of Ms. Parker, I presume."

"Actually," Max answered, giving Liz a small smile. "We just met. Maybe you know Isabel Evans?"

"She's David's assistant," Liz explained, her voice trembling some from watching the exchange between the men.

"Oh," Max said naturally, "You're _that_ David. I'm Isabel's brother."

This seemed to bother David even further. "Right." But probably taking his chance due to the fact that Max himself had confirmed that he and Liz didn't really know each other, David added, "Then you wouldn't mind if I steal Liz for a dance, would you?"

The chill was back. She could feel Max's eyes heat the side of her face and she braced herself before meeting his concerned eyes. Somehow, he knew that Liz wasn't very fond of David. Perhaps Max Evans even understood the great depths to Liz's dark feelings about her colleague. But there was nothing she could do. Cue Monday and she would have to work with this person, and preserving that inkling of a 'good working relationship' was crucial. If dancing with him was required for that to happen, she would just have to get on with it.

As if reading the reluctant affirmation in the firm set of her jaw, Max gave her a look that seemed to ask 'You're sure?' to which she gave a faint nod of her head.

Max turned to David. "Be my guest."

Liz's hand trembled as she handed Max her wine glass. "Keep that for me, okay?"

"Okay," Max said softly and, probably very intentionally, placed his whole hand around hers gripping the foot of the glass. He squeezed lightly and gave her a reassuring smile. His mouth said, "I'll wait here", while his whole being seemed to say 'I won't let you out of my sight'. That unspoken message made it easier for her to surrender to David Perkins.

* * *

_Max_

He watched her leave, her body curled in on itself as if she was being hauled off to her own execution. There was something very wrong about that David Perkins. Isabel had mentioned that he had come on to her quite strongly at the beginning, but after having a frank conversation about boundaries with the man, they had settled into a quite comfortable working relationship.

That didn't seem to be the case for Liz.

Max didn't like how Mr. Perkins looked at Liz. He didn't like how the man leaned possessively across the side of Liz's body. He particularly didn't like how Liz shrunk in fear in David's presence. Unfortunately, that response seemed to fuel the dark man. David Perkins seemed to be the kind of man that thrived on vulnerable, scared and petite women.

Max hadn't known Liz for long, but it was natural for him to instinctively want to protect any woman against men that tried to take advantage. Surrounding himself with strong women like Isabel and Maria had fueled his admiration and respect for women. He would never raise a hand to hurt a woman and he would not let any other man do it either - especially not in his company.

"She's great, isn't she?" Isabel's voice surprised him. But holding true to his previous promise, he didn't let his eyes wander from Liz.

"Yeah," Max answered.

"So," Max felt her sit down next to him. "You really think that she's the girl you saved?"

"Would it be weird if I did?"

Isabel laughed. "Maybe. But stranger things have happened."

Max nodded, his tone wistful. "So they have."

"Are you gonna tell her?"

Max raised the beer bottle to his lips and took a sip. "Not yet. But eventually."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Don't want to scare her off immediately."

Max nodded, watching Liz dancing stiffly in the arms of Isabel's boss, aware that Isabel was watching Max.

After a silent extended pause, Isabel questioned, "So what was that about?"

Max momentarily let his eyes skid to Isabel's face, before settling back on Liz again, "What?"

"That thing. Between you and Liz. That was more than the average I-brought-you-back-from-the-dead-and-now-we-probably-have-some-kind-of-connection thing."

Max laughed. "Ah, _that_ thing."

"You know what I mean. You really clicked. More than that. You like, fell into each other's eyes or something."

Max incredulously shook his head, but there was an amused smile at the corners of his mouth. "Whatever."

Isabel laughed knowingly. "I knew you would like her. I just couldn't hope that you would like her _that_ much."

"Shut up," Max mumbled, trying to repress a smile.

"Just sayin'," Isabel said innocently.


	16. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15  
**_Isabel_

"Thank you for tonight," Liz said when the company reached the front door to her apartment.

It hadn't really avoided anyone's attention at work that Liz's general condition had severely diminished over the past two weeks and Isabel couldn't help but draw parallels between Liz's sickly appearance and her brother's. But looking at Liz now, practically glowing, something had definitely turned for the better.

"Even though my dear sister is going rub this in forever," Max shot a glance at Isabel, "I'm really glad that she convinced me to come tonight."

Before Isabel could comment on that, Liz said, "Me too."

They were doing that eye-thingy again, Isabel noticed. Silently staring into each other's eyes. Even though Isabel was over the moon with happiness about seeing her brother happy for once, there was a limit to all this dreamy stuff. Cutting in between them and embracing Liz in a big hug (God, Liz really felt skinny), Isabel said, "I'll see you on Monday."

Liz was all smiles as Isabel pulled away, "Yep."

Isabel watched Max bend forward and give Liz a (lingering) peck on the cheek. Isabel rolled her eyes at their antics; Liz looked ready to melt. It was like watching puppy love unfold.

"I hope we meet again," Max said.

"Definitely," Liz promised.

"Ah well, sleep tight," Isabel was feeling the effects of it being 3 a.m. and wanted to get home to her nice soft bed.

"You too," Liz replied and closed the door after a soft "Bye".

"Max and Liz, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-" Isabel started singing and erupted in laughter as Max lightly punched her arm.

Isabel playfully continued to tease her younger brother while walking down the hallway blissfully oblivious to the seizure that Max would have exactly nineteen minutes later.

* * *

"Melissa?"

"Isabel? What's wrong?"

"Max is having a seizure, what do I do?"

"Again? Ehm…"

"Please," Isabel begged, looking down at Max convulsing at her feet, just inside the threshold of her front door. Foam was gathering around his mouth and his eyes were moving back and forth, showing off the whites of his eyeballs. There was a faint gurgling sound coming out of his mouth, as if he was suffocating.

"What do I do?" Isabel continued.

"Is he lying down?"

"Yes, he fell," Isabel sobbed.

"Do you have a pillow?" Max's ambulance colleague had first been groggy with sleep, having been woken up in the middle of the night by Isabel's panicked phone call, but adrenaline was quickly clearing her brain fog.

"Yes."

"Get one and put under his head, to protect him from injuring his head."

Isabel raced into the living room, retrieved a pillow, squeezed the cell phone between her shoulder and ear to free up her hands and as gently as she could pushed the pillow underneath Max's shaking head.

"Isabel?"

"Done."

"Try and roll him onto his side, so that his mouth is to the floor."

"Okay, hang on," Isabel croaked and put the phone on the floor. Taking a hold of her brother's lean body she rolled him onto his side, feeling the convulsions resisting her movements, but the adrenaline was making her stronger than usual. The gurgling sound from his mouth stopped. Thank God.

Isabel fumbled to get the phone off the floor. "Now what?"

"You wait."

That was not what Isabel wanted to hear, she hated not be able to do anything. "How long?"

"I'll wait with you," Melissa assured her. "Has the seizure just started?"

"Yeah, shortly before I called you."

"Okay," Melissa said, her voice calm. On the other end of the line, Melissa was keeping an eye on her bedroom clock, recording the approximate time to be able to see for how long the seizure lasted. "Isabel?"

"I'm here," Isabel breathed. Tears were running down her cheeks and she was seated up against the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest. She wanted to hold him, but the intermittent convulsions were so strong that she was afraid he might hurt her. Instead, she was four feet away from him. A distance which felt like several miles.

"Have you called an ambulance?"

"No, I called you first."

She had been about to call 911, but reason had captured her at the last second telling her that she couldn't. They would draw blood, they would examine him. What if they figured out that he wasn't human? They had never been sick, never been to the hospital. She couldn't call an ambulance.

"Isabel, I need you to hang up on me and call an ambulance and then call me back."

"Maybe he'll be fine. Maybe he won't need an ambul-"

"Isabel," Melissa said slowly. "You _need_ to call an ambulance."

"Okay," Isabel breathed. "Okay. I'll call you right back."

Isabel disconnected the call, put the phone next to her body, and allowed herself a minor nervous breakdown. Sobbing desolately into the arms she had folded tightly around her knees, she started to count seconds.

How long would it take to call 911?

Letting 25 seconds pass, Isabel retrieved her phone off the floor and redialed Melissa's number.

"Isabel?" Melissa answered.

"Yeah, it's me."

"They're coming?" Melissa asked.

"Yes," Isabel lied. "They'll be here soon."

_Please, be okay. Please, be okay._

As if hearing her pleads, Max's irregular body movements calmed down.

Isabel's sobs stilled. "Wait. I think…I think he's stopped…" She tentatively crawled towards his body, her hand reached out in front of her. "Max? Max?"

"Keep saying his name," Melissa guided on the other side of the line.

Isabel's movements were apprehensive as she patted Max's arm, as if he would suddenly wake up as a monster and attack her.

"He'll be confused when he comes to," Melissa's voice continued in Isabel's ear. "Check him for injuries, he might have to be treated for a concussion. But the EMTs will know that."

"Tell me anyway," Isabel said. There would be no EMT. She was all Max had.

"Um… He has to be fully himself before he eats or drinks and let the EMT know that this is his second seizure. He should be investigated for epilepsy, metabolic imbalances…brain tumor."

Isabel shook her head in denial. She didn't want to hear anymore. "Okay, okay. I'll tell them."

"Iz?" Max groaned and Isabel's whole being sighed in relief.

"He's awake," Isabel told Melissa. "Thank you, Melissa."

"Have him call me," Melissa instructed.

"Sure. _Thank you_."

"No problem, Isabel. I hope he's okay."

Isabel pressed 'Disconnect' and focused her full attention on Max who was now slowly, achingly, rolling up into seated position, simultaneously wiping saliva off his chin.

Tears of relief had now replaced the tears of horror rolling down Isabel's cheeks as she cradled Max's face in her hands. "Are you okay?"

"I had another vision," Max mumbled, his eyelids heavy. He looked drained.

"Is your head hurting?" Isabel asked, worrying about a possible concussion like Melissa had mentioned.

"No," Max shook his head, which was mildly hindered by Isabel holding onto his face with her shaking hands. "Iz…" Max breathed deeply, "I think he killed her."

"What? Who?"

"The man. And it was Liz. I'm sure now. After meeting her, I'm sure it was Liz." Max started crying and Isabel was momentarily surprised into inaction before she pulled his head against her shoulder, wrapping her arms around him.

"She's not dead, Max," Isabel soothed. "It was a vision."

"I couldn't help her," Max mumbled into her shirt and his voice was breaking Isabel's heart. "I watched it happen. I watched him force himself on her…" Max's voice trembled with anguish and he had to take a couple of breaths before being able to continue. "And when she started fighting back, he killed her. Strangled her."

"Max, no," Isabel whispered. "It hasn't happened."

"I think they are premonitions. I think they _will_ happen."

"There must be a reason why you're getting these visions. It must be so that you can stop them."

Max pulled back, clumsily wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, obviously trying to pull himself together. "I can't see him. His face remains hidden from me. I can't see whom I should protect her from."

"Max," Isabel took a hold of his shoulders. "Max, listen to me." When she had his attention, eyes red and glistening, she continued. "She's. Not. Dead. You can stop this."

Max shook his head in desperation. "I can't watch her every second of the day. I barely know her. What reason would I use to explain why I'm suddenly following her everywhere?"

"_I_ know her. And it wouldn't be so strange for a friend to want to hang out a lot, right? So I'll watch her."

"It happens at night," Max sighed. "I think it's really late because there's no one else there."

"Okay, so we have to make sure that she doesn't move around the city, alone, at night. That shouldn't be so hard."

"I don't understand why this is happening. Why would I have premonitions? I've never had any before. Why now?"

Isabel shook her head. "Let's not think about that now. Let's just assume that this is real and protect her, okay?"

Max nodded, his fears slightly eased by Isabel's words.

"You should probably know that I called Melissa," Isabel added, wary of his reaction. She knew how much he hated people knowing about these odd kinks of his body. "I was afraid. I didn't know what to do."

Max gave her a tired smile. "It's okay, Iz. I'm sorry I scared you."

"She wants you to call her, once you're okay. She suspects epilepsy or brain tumor or something."

Max seemed to understand this, nodding slowly. "I'll call her. We'll think of something."


	17. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16  
**_Tess_

Tess Harding knew that David Perkins was a dangerous man. She knew that the man thrived on fear and helplessness. She had on more than one occasion played the part of his 'victim' in his fantasy sex games. But she had never seen him in the state he was in when he had knocked in her door in the middle of the night, the night of his office party.

"David?" Her voice held surprise as she came upon the man on the other side of her door. His black tie was hanging loosely around his neck, the black jacket was hanging loosely from his hand, but there wasn't nothing loose about his expression.

Tess swallowed and a small voice belonging to some kind of survival instinct deep inside of her ordered her to _Close the door!_

But she didn't. "David, what's wrong?"

He had been leaning against the wall, shadows from the dark hallway becoming a part of his chiseled face. "Hello, Ms. Harding."

"I didn't know you were coming over," Tess said. Her survival instinct had crawled back into its hole. Tess wouldn't let him know that he was scaring her.

"Oh, was I supposed to make an appointment?" he asked, voice deep and threatening.

Tess swallowed. "I guess not. It's just… you're disturbing a lady's beauty sleep here."

"Does it look like I care?"

Her hand tightened around the door knob, giving the survival instinct a chance to peek out and quickly shout _Close it! Close it now!_ before it hid anew.

"Are you drunk?"

He came at her then. Too quickly for her to react. Lunging his body at hers, her back slamming into the picture frames jutting out of the wall as his hands closed around her throat. The hall mirror trembled on its nails next to her, shuddered and fell to the floor. Millions of pieces of glass exploded across the floor.

_Seven years of bad luck._

"You belong to me," he sneered, his face so close to hers that she could barely breathe. His hands closing around her throat challenged her possibility of breathing further.

"Yes," she whispered, her vocal cords protesting.

His left hand let go of her throat while his right hand was large enough to spread across the front of her throat, holding her up so that she was balancing on the tip of her toes, confining pressure underneath her chin. His left hand began to fumble with the zipper of his pants, his breathing erratic and hot against her face.

"You are _not_ to look at _any_ other man," he said, emphasizing his words by slamming her twice against the walls. She flinched as the wooden frames of her the generic photos that came with the picture frames cut into her back through her thin nightgown.

"No," she croaked.

_I should kill him_, she thought hazily. There were black spots dancing in front of her eyes. _I have to kill him._

Just then his hand left her throat and she could breathe, but he had only done so to be able to free his penis. She heard the familiar rip of her lacy panties (Damn, the expensive ones) and then he pushed inside her. Hard. She gasped, unprepared for the pain. He pushed her up against the wall with the heavy, now sweaty, body of his own as he thrust into her again and again, his pace fervent.

She closed her eyes and rode out the storm, trying not to focus on the pain in her back.

"You are mine," David pushed out between clenched teeth before hitting her with a closed fist across her cheekbone. The pain exploded across her face, making her lose her breath.

Ms. Survival Instinct was back from her hiding and this time Tess was all ears.

Within a second after David had crossed the line, he was slammed into the opposite wall, the impact creating a indention of his body in the yellow plaster. David collapsed on the floor, pants around his ankles, hair standing in all directions as if he was a madman, the black shirt hiding his manhood.

Tess stood panting, blood trickling down the inside of her thigh (he had been too forceful), a subtle thrumming ache in her back and a excruciating throb in her left cheek. Her expensive lacy night gown was torn in several places and her blonde curls were not so perfect anymore. Her right hand, hanging loosely against her side, still flickered with the tapering powers that had been used.

Her eyes were dark and sharp as she looked at the man that was gingerly trying to get to his feet. She could kill him. Easily. But God, all the paperwork. Having to get rid of his body. Sure, if he had been a one-night stand. But people knew she and him had a thing going. People would question her if he would turn up missing. Fuck. She couldn't kill him.

"How the hell…" David whispered. "What the hell…How did you..?"

Tess smiled faintly. "You're not the only one that's strong, _honey._"

His eyes caught sight of the visible ebbing electricity coursing through her fingers and his eyes widened. For the first time, David Perkins looked scared. "What the fuck…?"

"I would love to play around some more, David," Tess said with a sweet voice. "But you see. It's the middle of the night; you just broke my wall, my mirror and my favorite night gown. I'm bleeding all over the place and I will have to use a ridiculous amount of _expensive_ make-up to cover up the shit you just pulled. So I hope you understand that I'm not in the mood anymore."

David got to his feet, whispering, "What kind of freak are you?"

Tess snorted in disbelief. "Don't talk to me about _freaks_, you sick son-of-a-bitch. Believe me, I would love for you to remember all of this, so that you'd spend the rest of your pathetic life looking over your shoulder…" Tess started a slow walk towards David and enjoyed it when he pressed up against the wall, "…but due to your sadistic fuck-up, I'll have to do some damage control. I _will not_ let you forget what you did to me. But you will not remember what happened to _you_."

He looked like he was about to pee his pants. _Serves him right_, Tess thought and closed her eyes.

She could hear his frantic and fearful breathing slow down to something of a normal breathing pattern as she entered his brain and did some tweaking. Instead of blasting him half-way through the wall, David would remember Tess fighting him back with her hands and with a very accurate knee to his groin. He would remember her threatening him with a knife, forcing him to actually leave the apartment and leave her alone. He would remember the feeling of fear (which he would have difficulty rationalizing later considering that he had never been afraid of a woman in his whole life) that would stop him from taking his revenge on Tess and prevent him from 'teaching her a lesson'.

David Perkins would never mess with Tess Harding again.

* * *

She traced the metallic sans-serif numbers nailed to the wooden door with a well-manicured index finger.

Twenty-three.

This was, supposedly, his apartment. It was in the middle of the day and Tess was aware that anyone could walk down that hallway and see a small blonde woman in designer clothes breaking into an apartment that wasn't hers. But compared to ordinary burglars, Tess had a trick or two up her sleeve. Because a passerby would _not _see a small blonde woman in designer clothes breaking into an apartment, they would see an empty corridor. That was one of Tess' magic tricks. The genetic variation that enabled her to do so meant that she could take her time breaking into the apartment. Not that she really needed any time anyway.

With a smug smile on her red-painted lips and a wave of her hand over the lock, she had committed breaking and entering without breaking a nail.

She closed the door behind her and dropped the mind-warp she had camouflaged her actions with. Here, in Maxwell Evans' hallway, no one could see her anyway. She locked the door behind her and took a deep breath.

"Nice place you've got here, Mr. Evans." She looked at a picture frame positioned on the small chest in the hallway, scrunched her nose in displeasure at seeing Michael Guerin's annoying face in the photo, next to the owner whose apartment she was trespassing. "Not bad at all."

Calmly placing her pink Valentino bag on the floor, Tess retrieved a pair of latex gloves from the smaller inside compartment.

"Who says bags can't be both beautiful and useful?"

She snapped the latex gloves on and proceeded to take out rather advanced surveillance equipment from the larger compartment of her very useful bag. Her mind tricks sure came in handy, both in acquiring designer bags and in acquiring high tech bugs.

"Let's see," Tess mumbled, looking around the neat apartment. "Where would you spend most of your time, Mr. Evans?"

Of course, balancing on a plastic chair to get a 10 by 10 mm gadget hidden in the upper corner of a painting could not be avoided by using her mind powers. It was true hard manual work that was put into bugging Mr. Evans' phone and placing another camera above the resident's bed. Placing the plastic chair in the exact position she had found it, Tess wiped down (which entailed a simple wave of her hand) the lock she had turned upon entering the apartment, unlocked that same lock, removed the gloves, opened the door with the gloves still in her hand - a barrier between her fingerprints and the door handle - and entered the hallway (mind-warp of empty hallway now fully back in function).

Tess closed the door, magically locked it, let the gloves drop into her bag and smiled.

_Mission accomplished._


	18. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**  
_Maria_

Maria bent over the counter and kissed her boyfriend lightly on the lips. "Hey, babe."

Michael was on his laptop and his greeting was distracted. "Hey."

"Whatcha doin'?" She circled around the kitchen island to sneak a peak at what was keeping Michael preoccupied. "Is it porn, or some-"

Her words came to a stop as she saw the photos Michael was browsing. It was not until she stopped mid-sentence that Michael noticed her shift in position and closed the lid of the laptop. Turning towards Maria on the bar stool and pulling her body in between his legs, putting her face level with his, he suggested, "Let's go on a trip."

Having seen the images of the desert landscape, Maria whispered, "To Roswell?"

Michael nodded and Maria frowned. What was going on here? Michael _hated_ Roswell. He had vowed to never go back. "But you-"

Michael's grip on her hips tightened. "I know. I said I would never return. But I've changed my mind."

"Why?" Maria questioned.

Michael sighed, letting his arms fall. He rolled the desk chair backwards slightly, so that he could get to his feet without knocking Maria over. "Do you need a reason?"

Maria gave him a look that specifically told him 'Do you really have to ask?' and he sighed again.

"I want to get away. I'm sick of city life."

Something was not right here. "Then go to Hawaii," Maria said, annoyance in her voice. She knew that she shouldn't get worked up and that her boyfriend (who was lacking some social antennas) wouldn't understand why she was, but it was mostly him not letting her in on his 'secrets' that was bugging her. It was the one problem that they had always struggled with; Michael's Closed-for-Business-attitude. She had lost count of how many of their fights had been about him not having to shoulder everything on his own, about how he could share things with her and maybe she could help him shoulder part of the burden. She could feel one of those fights coming on now. She didn't want to fight, she couldn't help it, but if she didn't say anything he would never learn.

"I'm not interested in a fun sun vacation," Michael said, pulling the refrigerator open and retrieving a Snapple. "I want to see Roswell."

"But why?" Maria wondered.

He sighed and his voice was now tense. "Because."

"To see your foster dad?"

Michael looked disappointed. They had been together so long that he knew what she was doing. She was trying to get a rise out of him.

"Of course not," he sounded hurt and Maria immediately regretted bringing up the 'father' who had abused Michael as a young adult.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I just find it odd that you would suddenly have this need to go to Roswell when you've detested the place for as long as I've known you."

"You don't have to come," Michael said, taking a seat in front of his laptop again and pushing the lid up. The photos of Roswell blinked up.

"I'm going, Michael," Maria said, sinking down on his left knee, forcing herself in between the computer screen and his body. His attention was forcibly directed towards her as she put her arms around his neck, pulling his face close to hers. "I wouldn't let you go to that place alone, whatever the reason."

She watched his eyes warm and knew that she had managed to translate to him how much he meant to her and how, even though he wouldn't tell her, she knew that going to his hometown in New Mexico was not a vacation.

"Where are you?"

Isabel sounded tired, terse. Maria had heard about Max's second seizure and all about him meeting the mysterious woman of his vision. Well, they were calling it _premonitions_ now apparently. Maria didn't especially like to leave Max and Isabel to their problems, but Michael had gotten into his head to go to Roswell and she would not let him go alone. Michael was, after all, her first priority.

"Roswell, New Mexico," Maria replied.

"It's true then," Isabel said quietly. "You really went to Roswell."

"Yep," Maria said, surveying the orange sandy landscape outside the motel window. "We sure did."

"Why?"

"You know Michael," Maria sighed. "He's a closed book, written in an alien language."

"Right," Isabel mumbled. "Do you think it has anything to do with his father?"

"He hasn't said a word. Got quite upset when I mentioned the big D though."

"Hmm… Do you want me to talk to him?"

Maria heard the bathroom door open and saw Michael step out, a towel wrapped around his hips, another towel used to ruffle through his wet hair. "I have a feeling it would make it worse, no offense."

"None taken," Isabel said and then sighed. "Okay, I'll leave you to it. I'm here if you need me."

"Sure," Maria replied. "And Iz, take care of Max, okay?"

"I will," Maria could hear the smile, but worried about the constant fatigue in Isabel's voice.

"Bye," Maria finished and heard the faint reciprocal "Bye" as she removed the cell phone from her ear to press 'Disconnect'.

"Isabel?" Michael asked, confirming.

Maria nodded and leaned back on her elbows on the bed. Trying to sound nonchalant, she said, "So, what are we doing today?"

"Cave diving."

The smile faltered on Maria's lips. "I'm not sure that's a thing." She narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend of five years. "Ooor… at least not a thing for us."

"I hope you brought your comfortable jeans," Michael said, giving her a quick peck on the lips.

Maria let her upper body flop back on the bed and groaned. "Why can't we just go to the Alien Museum or eat alien-themed hamburgers, like normal couples?"

She didn't miss his wink. "What would be the fun in that, huh?"

She groaned again.

* * *

_Michael_

It had come to him in a dream. And everyone else around him seemed to follow their 'dreams' so why shouldn't he? He had been walking around in the desert, naked (obviously, classroom dreams were not the only dreams one could be naked in), following a snake. He had no idea why he had been following that particular snake, it had just seemed like the thing to do. Plus, it was the only other living thing around.

The reptile had guided him into a cave and it hadn't taken him long to recognize it. The chambers were still were he had last seen them and the membrane, although now dry like paper, out of which he had managed his own birth was still present. The only problem was that he had remembered there to be three chambers. Three. One for Max, one for Isabel and one for himself. But the snake was slithering up to a forth chamber. It was, just like the others, empty.

But of course, Michael had woken up with the urgent need to see for himself. Had there been four chambers instead of three? And in that case, where was the fourth member? Why hadn't that person tried to find them, like Michael had searched out Isabel and Max?

Michael knew it was futile to ask Isabel or Max how many chambers they remember there being. Before they had met Michael, they both thought there had only been two. The chamber housing Michael had been hidden further into the cave, alongside this mysterious fourth chamber, away from Max and Isabel's. Upon breaking out, Max had pulled his sister out of the chamber, but had missed the other two occupants of the cave. And maybe Michael had missed one too.

He hadn't wanted Maria to worry. He had watched her worry about Max's dreams so the last thing he wanted was to have Maria worrying that her boyfriend was turning into a nutcase, just like Max.

"Ugh," Maria groaned behind him. "You could at least have warned me that there was going to be hiking or something, so I could've brought my comfortable shoes."

"It's not much further," Michael replied, a small smile playing on his lips at the sight of Maria all dusty and sweaty. Maria, his gorgeous woman.

"You owe me a foot massage tonight, mister," Maria said.

"I could give you a piggy ride back," Michael offered, trying to smooth things over.

"You're on," Maria replied. "Do you have any more water?"

"Sure," Michael replied and stopped to haul the backpack off his back, retrieving a water bottle and handing it to her.

"Thanks." She was breathless, sand stuck to her cheeks and forehead, tendrils of her braided hair moving in the small breeze around her face.

"You're beautiful," Michael whispered, staring at her.

She smiled, taking another gulp of water, before replying, "Flattery won't get you far, Mikey G."

He groaned. "Don't call me that."

She handed the water bottle back to him. "But flattery is appreciated. Thank you."

He paused to tenderly brush a strand of hair off her sweaty forehead, before pushing the water bottle back into position in his backpack. His eyes were on the backpack as he said, "Thank you for coming with me." He never was very good at affection, keeping his eyes away from eye contact helped to get the words out.

He felt her fingers lightly brush the one-day stubble on his cheek in a caress. "No other place I'd rather be."

He knew that it was bad timing, but he couldn't help it. He laughed lightly. "Are you sure?"

She lightly punched his arm, before weaving her arm through his. "Well, you could've picked a more comfortable place for your romantic adventures, but that wouldn't be Michael Guerin, would it?"

"Right you are," Michael replied and they recommenced their journey.

He hadn't brought a map, he was following his instinct. Maybe it was foolish, especially when he was in charge of Maria's survival, but he knew that his instinct (or whatever it was) would guide him to the right place. It was barely midday as he saw the contours of the cave against the clear blue sky.

"There it is," he said breathlessly. It was still there.

"Wow," Maria murmured beside him. "That's your birth place."

"Pretty cool, huh?" Michael said and picked up the pace. "Come on."

Michael had just walked five more steps when Maria's grip on his arm loosened. He turned to her, thinking that she had lost her balance. At the sight that met him, her name carried across his lips in panic. She was on the ground, on her back, shaking (no, convulsing), nonsensical words tumbling out of her mouth.

Michael fell to his knees next to her and bundled her seizing frame up against his body, pulling her up on his lap. "Mariamariamaria."

But saying her name over and over again didn't seem to do the trick. Her eyes were rolled up and he could feel wetness across his knee. Looking down he could see that she had lost control of her bladder.

"Oh fuck," Michael mumbled and returned his attention to Maria's face.

Shaking her, which in retrospect might have been an odd thing to do to a girl who was already doing a fairly good job at shaking herself, Michael tried to get Maria to snap out of it. But she didn't. Michael felt the seconds tick by as if they were individual slaps to his face.

"Jesus, Maria. Come on. Don't do this."

He'd never been so scared in his life. Not even when Hank Guerin, his foster dad, had come at him with a baseball bat and caused a small crack in his skull (the crack had since then been healed by Max Evans).

He folded her body up into his arms and managed to get to his feet. It was a lot harder than he would think to carry a convulsing body. He took two steps in the direction of where they had come and Maria stilled in his arms.

_She died_, was his first panic-stricken thought.

"Michael," she whispered and his heart took a dive from his throat to its normal position in his ribcage.

He sank to his knees, hugging her close to him. "God, Maria."

Her voice was muffled by his shirt. "What happened? Why am I wet?"

He gave a teary laugh, he hadn't realized he was crying, and pulled back to look at her. "You're okay. I think you had a seizure or something."

"What?" she gasped.

"Yeah," Michael nodded, trying to catch his breath.

Her eyes widened in realization and subsequent mortification. "Did I pee my pants?"

"Who cares?" Michael asked rhetorically and kissed her. It was an all-consuming kiss. One that she hadn't been given in a while. He pulled back, wiping the tears off his cheeks with the back of his hand.

"Michael," Maria was looking at him worriedly. Not used to seeing him cry.

By habit, he dropped his head, not wanting her to see. He helped her to her feet and over to a rock. Guiding her to take a seat, he pointed to the backpack which had been abandoned where the seizure had claimed her. "I'll get you some water."

He was about one step from the backpack, exactly where Maria had been when she had collapsed, when he felt it. It was similar to an electrical current and it moved through him seemingly back and forth. Why had he noticed it before? Maybe the excitement of seeing the cave had made him less alert?

He looked back over his shoulder at his girlfriend, sitting on the orange rock looking worried and lost. He took a slow step backwards and felt the current ebb and disappear. He took an experimental step forward and felt the electricity tickle his fingers. He looked down and saw the little hairs on his arms stand on end. He stepped back and the feeling was gone.

"Michael? What are you doing?"

He picked up the backpack and walked back to Maria. He was deep in thought as he fell to his knees in the sand in front of her, unscrewed the lid of the water bottle and directed it to her lips. He took a gentle hold of the back of her head to steady her, "Here. Drink."

She did as told, her eyes glued to his face. When he was satisfied that she'd had enough and was putting the lid back on, she asked, "What are you thinking? Is it because I was healed by Max? Am I getting the same seizures as him because we share a connection? But I didn't have any visions, I didn't _see_ anything-"

Michael placed a silencing index finger to her lips and shook his head. "I think it's a barrier."

"Huh?"

Michael pointed back to where the backpack had been, where he thought he had lost her. "When I went back there… There's this current. Like electricity. Right where you had your seizure. And I think… If I were to move to the left or right from where I felt it, it would continue, forming a-"

"Circle," Maria filled in, getting it. His girlfriend was not dumb.

Michael nodded gravely.

"You think it's some kind of defense system, protecting the cave from…humans?"

He couldn't have put it better himself. Michael nodded again. "That's why I've never read anything about the cave. I have wondered why no one has ever explored the cave. No one could've. If they had, it would've become news. I mean, the things in that cave. They're not normal."

"And you could pass through the barrier?" Maria asked.

"There was an unpleasant tingle, of being hit with a mild dose of electricity, but nothing more."

"You have to do this alone," Maria stated, biting her bottom lip in disappointment.

"No way I'm letting you try out the theory," Michael said, putting a finger under Maria's chin to get her to look at him. "It's too dangerous. If I hadn't moved you, I don't know what would've happened."

Maria nodded, understanding the unspoken implication perfectly. "I'll wait here, trying to overcome the embarrassment of peeing my pants."

Michael smiled and pulled her in for a kiss. A gentle caress of her lips, leaving her longingly breathless. "I'll be back."

"You better," Maria whispered.


	19. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER 18**  
_Liz_

Liz caught herself humming along to the song on the radio the Monday morning following the weekend when she had first met Isabel's brother. She had been able to eat during the weekend and keep food down. Even the dreams were kept at bay. All in all, things were definitely looking up. Not even the knowledge that she had to be face to face with David Perkins today at work could rain on her parade. With a hearty breakfast in her stomach and a good night's sleep behind her, it shouldn't be a problem to handle Mr. Perkins.

Nothing really could've prepared her for the version of David Perkins that she was going to meet that day. Even people who had worked with the man since the start of his employment three years prior had difficulties recognizing this version of David Perkins.

Liz felt him before she saw him in how the room started shrinking. She removed the tea bag from the hot water in her 'Architects Rock'-mug that her father had given her when she graduated and let her eyes drift towards the chill. Her hand came to a halt on its way to the bin, light brown droplets of tea dripping slowly and forgotten on the counter from the suspended tea bag.

His gait was slow and gingerly, as if he had aged at least 50 years in the last 58 hours. His hair was untamed, angling in all directions, and in stark contrast with his usual perfect water-combed hairstyle. He was wearing his usual black tie, white shirt, grey slacks and grey jacket, but the tie appeared to be on backwards (how do you manage that?), one of the legs of the pants was pushed into his sock and his shirt was not tucked in. Except for the fact that his clothes actually appeared clean, he was only a beard away from the homeless man who lived in a soggy cardboard box outside the neighboring office building.

Liz spotted Isabel coming around a corner, intending to inform her boss of the day's itinerary. Liz watched her freeze, the iPad forgotten in her hand. But Isabel, ever the professional, only needed two seconds to collect herself before continuing towards David, taking him by the arm (Liz noticed how David seemed to jump at Isabel's touch) and guiding him away from the curious eyes of the office towards David's private corner.

Liz blinked.

Turning around she noticed the small pool (more like a pond) of tea on the counter, resumed the task of dropping the used tea bag in the bin, cleaned up after herself and left the kitchen area, tea cup in hand. Upon entering her office, she sank down behind her desk, put both hands around the cup and started sipping the tea, wondering what today would have in hold. Wondering if her extra hours of good sleep and energy in her stomach was going to be enough.

Isabel knocked on the door and Liz gave her a nod to enter.

"Hey," she sounded breathless.

"Hey," Liz answered cautiously, not knowing what to expect.

"So," Isabel said, closing the door behind her. "You probably saw David…"

Liz bit her lower lip. "Yep."

Isabel put her head to the side, seemingly unsure of how to explain David's 'predicament'. "Well, he's had a rough weekend."

"Okay," Liz answered.

"He's going to take the day off," Isabel explained.

Liz forced back the smile and answered professionally, evenly, "Okay."

"He'll probably be back tomorrow," Isabel continued.

"Right," Liz said.

"Right," Isabel said and exhaled loudly, looking around Liz's office as if she wasn't really sure what to do next. "So… I should probably utilize this free time to organize those files I never have the time to organize."

"Right," Liz agreed, picking up her tea cup and taking a sip.

"Unless…"

"Unless?"

Isabel was looking at her pointedly. "Unless _you_…"

Catching on, Liz filled in, "Unless _I_…would like some help? Actually, yes."

Isabel exhaled in relief. "Thank God. Just the thought of having to go through all those papers today. I've barely slept. I will have to take David's phone calls, as usual, but you might need my help showing you some of the ropes now that David's not here."

Liz thought it sounded like a marvelous idea. A whole day without David Perkins _plus_ a whole day with Isabel Evans. It was like being paired up with your best friend for group assignment at school.

"Excellent," Liz smiled. "Actually, I don't know where David has put the drawings…"

"I'm on it," Isabel said quickly and left the office in the blink of an eye.

They'd been busy all morning and gotten a lot more done without Liz's male architect counterpart present to make sexual innuendoes. As they got closer to noon, their energy started to dwindle and their stomachs started to grumble, and their conversations started to lean towards leisure rather than business.

"So you liked my brother, huh?" was Isabel's first dive into the non-work-related pool of topics.

Liz looked up from her calculations, caught off guard by Isabel's question. "Sure."

Isabel smiled. "'Sure'? That's all?"

A secretive smile played on Liz's lips as she bent her head to prevent Isabel from getting full stereo of her emotions. "He seems really great."

"He is. As great as brothers come."

Liz looked up. "You two seem really close. Is that because of how you were found, that you share the same background that no one else shares?"

Isabel remembered that Liz was still unaware of the existence of Michael Guerin, and even she didn't know about the 'magic' displayed by Theresa Harding that preceding weekend.

"Maybe," Isabel answered. "But he's always been there for me. Through thick and thin."

"Yeah, he has that quality about him," Liz said wistfully.

"What's that?"

"Well, when you were on the phone and Max went to get us some drinks, David joined me."

"Oh," Isabel said and then remembered, "Right, you were dancing with him later."

Liz nodded, not really wanting to revisit that memory. "Well, before that, David was talking to me. Actually, he was not at his best manners that night."

"He was a bit off," Isabel agreed and then shrugged. "But he's a complicated man. Obviously. You saw the same thing as everyone else today. He's not in a good place right now."

Liz nodded. "Max returned in the middle of the conversation and probably picked up on how David was acting. He became all overprotective. Even though he hardly knew me."

Isabel smiled. "Yeah, he does that. Sometimes a little too well."

Liz shrugged. "It was nice. I got a very good sense of how it must be to be his sister." _Or his girlfriend._ "It felt very safe. You have a great brother, Isabel."

"He's okay," Isabel said and rolled her eyes. "But he has a lot of bad sides as well. He's very far from being a saint."  
Liz laughed. "I'm sure."

"And I won't spoil your image of him just yet, but some day I'll tell you all the nasty details."

Liz extended her hand across the desk and Isabel took it in a firm handshake. "Deal."

"Can I buy you lunch?" Isabel asked and Liz nodded.

"Yes, please."

The girls simultaneously started to get out of their seats when there was a knock at the door. Serena, one of the assistants, poked her head in.

"Isabel? There's a Tess Harding here to see you."

"Oh," Isabel smacked her forehead in a 'how do I keep forgetting my scheduled appointments?'-gesture, "Right."

"You've got plans," Liz foretold.

"Just lunch plans," Isabel answered. "You are more than welcome to join us."

Liz hesitated for a second but since she was feeling pretty good today, meeting some more people couldn't be a bad thing. "As long as you don't feel that I'm intruding."

"Don't be silly. Of course not."

Isabel's lunch appointment was a petite blonde, about an inch shorter than Liz, all dressed up in expensive clothing. But Isabel's gasp brought Liz straight back to the girl's face.

"Oh my God, what happened?" Isabel's hand froze in the air about an inch from the bluish area of the girl's left cheek. The girl had done her best to cover it up, but it was very visible in the bright glare of the midday sun.

The girl waved Isabel's worries away. "Silly accident really. I'm a real klutz." Ice blue eyes turned to Liz. "Hi."

Feeling like she was the odd girl out next to these two stunning blondes with designer clothes, Liz inhaled and answered, "Hi. I'm Liz."

"Oh sorry," Isabel said, apologizing for not making introductions. "I got totally sidetracked by your face."

"It happens," the girl smiled and Isabel laughed.

"Liz, this is Tess. Tess, my colleague Liz."

"Nice to meet you," Tess said and shook Liz's hand.

"You too," Liz replied. She couldn't help but stare at the girl. The same feeling of coldness that she had managed to avoid today due to David's absence was radiating off this girl. As if she was made out of the same fabric as David.

"How do you guys know each other?" Liz asked.

"Oh, we just met," Tess explained and looked at Isabel for agreement. "Like…two weeks ago or something?"

"Yeah, something like that," Isabel concurred. "Tess is David's boyfriend."

_That explains it_, Liz had time to think before Tess corrected, "_Was_ David's girlfriend."

Isabel stared at her. "What happened?"

Isabel and Liz seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same time, because Isabel immediately pointed at Tess' cheek. "Did _he_ do that?!"

"No," Tess smiled cooly. "Like I said. A stupid accident."

"Good," Isabel breathed. "I hope you're telling the truth. A man that hits should never run free."

"I agree," Tess answered. "So where do you want to eat?"

"Chinese," Isabel suggested. "I'm really in the mood for egg rolls."

"Chinese's fine by me," Liz said.

"Chinese it is," Tess concluded.


	20. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19**  
_Michael_

Past the electrical barrier, most likely designed to keep humans out, there was nothing stopping Michael from walking straight into the cave.

The musty damp smell of the inside of the cave was like the inside of any other tourist-ridden caves out there, but this particular smell triggered Michael's memories.

Memories of having crawled out of that cave, all alone, wet and cold.

As his hand reverently brushed along the inside of the cave wall he remembered the disorientation, of not having the inkling of a clue as to where he had woken up, where he had been or where he was going.

The center of the cave was lit by a small opening in the roof, casting rays of daylight around the somewhat circular space. Michael stopped and his heart rate accelerated.

Ground Zero.

To his left, nestled in the cave wall, were two compartments about the size of British telephone booths. He took tentative steps towards the chambers. After that barrier crap this cave had put his girlfriend through he was less eager to feel safe and confident in this place.

As he approached, he saw the pieces of the membrane, which had covered the front of the chambers, jutting out of the edges. Carefully, he reached out and touched one jagged edge and gasped as it fell apart at the contact, disintegrating into dust. But before it had evaporated, it had felt sharp and hard as a piece of polystyrene plastic.

He carefully put his head inside the chamber, now conscious of the fact that anything he touched might be obliterated at contact. The back wall of the chamber was irregular with what looked like pipes embedded in the material.

"What the hell is this thing?" he mumbled to himself and next angled his head to look up in the ceiling of the chamber.

In the center of the 'ceiling' of the compartment was a circular dome, about the size of a watermelon split in two. It was dark red in color and covered in faint lines as if a spider had decorated it with its web. Michael was pretty sure that a spider had nothing to do with its appearance, though. He would have easily been able to reach it (he really wanted to touch it), but admittedly he was a bit afraid of what might happen.

Worst case scenario, that _thing_ would probably electrocute him as it had tried Maria, and that would be the end of this tour of self-discovery. With its woven blue spindles across it, the dome gave off a sinister look that made Michael suspect it was a power source. Possibly the thing that had 'operated' his and his alien friends' first years and plausibly even having decided the date of their birth.

Suppressing a shiver, Michael pulled his head out of the chamber and glanced at the one next to it, before continuing down the cave. He had yet to find his own chamber and possibly a fourth one. There were no big holes to light the cave with daylight as he moved further into the subterranean space and he fumbled with his backpack for a couple of seconds before pulling out a flashlight.

The light from the flashlight revealed indentations in the cave walls. Lots of them. Almost like the cave paintings paleolithic humans had left behind 30,000 or so years ago for modern generations to explore and try to make sense of. But these weren't paintings. These were more like stone carving shaped into letters.

"It's a language," Michael told himself, running his hand down the indentations. "It's _my_ language."

He couldn't understand it, couldn't even begin to be able to read it, but he instinctively knew that at some point he _had_ known this language.

He pulled out Maria's flashlight (not that she needed it anyway, sweating outside in the blazing desert sun) and positioned it on the left corner of the wall while he placed his own on the right corner. Angling them upwards, he got them to illuminate the wall fairly well. Stepping back, he retrieved his smart phone, swiped forward to 'Camera' and started documenting.

Maybe Isabel or Max could make sense of it.

Pocketing the phone and collecting the flashlights, he was back to tracking down the dark cave just a few minutes later. The light of the flashlight caught in the membrane of the chamber first, reflecting it back to Michael in small white glints. Next the chamber came into view and Michael felt a warmth spread inside his chest.

_This is mine. This was mine._

He walked up to the chamber that was shrouded in darkness, pushed well into the cave wall, and let the artificial light from the flashlight caress the exterior and interior of the chamber. Aiming to step closer, Michael stumbled and unthinkingly put his arm out to brace himself. He felt the sharpness of the dried up edges of the front membrane push into his hand and squeezed his eyes shut in trepidation, expecting the whole chamber to come crashing down as his weight would fall into it. To his surprise, the membrane didn't collapse at his touch, but kept digging into the palm of his hand. Michael opened his eyes and could for himself see that the structure was bearing his weight.

_Because it's mine. I'm allowed here._

It was the only possible explanation. The chamber he had touched before (either Max's or Isabel's) hadn't recognized him and had been intent on self-destruction. Another safety precaution against being seen and examined by non-authorized individuals. His heart was almost pounding out of his chest as his hand kept moving into the chamber, being able to touch across the ridges at the back, across the pipes, and up along the height of the contraption. He stopped just short of touching the dome, still hesitant on what might happen. He clenched and unclenched his fist a couple of inches below the dome, his hand hanging in the air awaiting his command and closed his eyes before he moved to touch it.

_I love you, Maria._

He didn't feel a boom, he didn't feel pain.

There was no heat, no tingle, nothing.

Michael slowly opened his eyes and saw the dome glow red and the spindles lying as a mesh of veins on top were pulsating in a blue color. His initial reaction was to pull his hand away. His withdrawal caused the dome to go dark, as if he had turned off its power supply. He rubbed his fingers together in contemplation before settling his hand, his whole palm this time, against the belly of the dome. It sprung back to life, the red glow brighter this time.

"You recognize me," Michael said to the dome. "You created me."

He knew it was ridiculous (silly even) to think that the small dome had created him, that it was even a living thinking thing, but he was certain that it had kept him alive and made sure that he had fitted together properly. It was the control room that had seen to it that he got two arms instead of three and only one head. It probably was the reason for his abilities.

"Well, yeah," Michael murmured. "Maybe they fitted me with the beta version of this dome thingy." Considering that his abilities were not as impressive or as evolved as Max and Isabel's.

His hand still attached to the dome, to keep it bright and powered on, Michael used his left hand to fish out his phone and took a photo of the dome. Something else for Max and Isabel to mull over. He pulled his hand back, the dome powered down, and pulled out of his chamber.

"Now, is there a fourth chamber here, or what?"

* * *

_Maria_

There's a reason why the word 'deserted' originated from the word 'desert'.

Right now, Maria felt very much deserted in a desert.

It was getting close to noon and the sun was almost at its peak, beating mercilessly down on the landscape below. Michael had left her a bottle of water and she just drank the last of it before refocusing her meandering attention on the figures she was drawing in the sand with a stick she had found. Camping out in the desert with nothing but sand sand and more sand in sight was not really what she had envisioned when Michael had told her of his plans of going into his birth cave. Maybe she had romanticized it a bit (slowly treading through a damp dark cave, Michael pulling her close to his body as he found the cool alien remnants of his origins), but at the very least she had pictured them inside the cave - _together._

There was no way she would risk getting electrocuted again, but being left out here alone really blowed. It didn't help matters that Michael seemed to take forever in that cave. A nagging voice at the back of her head was worried that something might have happened (what if something happens to him inside the cave, no one will know, no one can access him) and she had only been able to put a small damper on that voice once she had given Michael a deadline.

If he was not out in one hour, she would call Max.

After that decision had been made, she'd been able to let herself relax. Not that 'relaxation' was the word she would have chosen to describe sitting on a hot big rock in 95 degree heat. Plus, her feet were expanding in her shoes, pressing on the blisters at the back of her heels. Maria DeLuca was not a happy camper.

She glanced at the watch around her wrist. Five minutes. He had five minutes left before she had to call Max. If something _had_ happened, Max might not be able to get here in time to help, but she was really out of options on this one. Unless…

She was just starting to consider running through the barrier (maybe the electricity wouldn't have a chance to catch onto her if she was fast enough) when she saw the blurred outlines of a man exit the large rock formations that hid the cave. She let out a sigh of relief.

_Thank God._

When he had passed the place where Maria had collapsed, Michael started speaking in a very exhilarated voice, "There's four. Maria, there's four."

Maria got to her feet and stumbled into his arms. "Right now, at this moment, I couldn't care less about how many there are." She had no idea what he was talking about. "You're here."

He was holding her tightly, gathering his fist into her hair and pressing her head against his chest. "You okay?"

Maria pulled back and smiled up at him, squinting in the bright sun, "I'm hot, I'm thirsty, my feet are hurting and I never want to see this place ever again, but you're here so I'm okay."

He shook his head with a relieved shaky laugh and pulled lightly at her braid, "Silly girl."

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

"More," Michael answered and his eyes sparkled in a way that Maria had never seen before. Had he ever looked so alive before?

She smiled cautiously, not sure what to make of this new Michael. She had never considered how his findings in the cave might affect her. Affect their relationship. Suddenly it hit her that whatever was in that cave might give Michael the answers to leave. To leave Earth. Her heart plummeted to her stomach and she pulled out of his arms.

"What's wrong?" Michael asked, worried.

She clutched her stomach, feeling nauseous. The air was even hotter, burning her lungs as her breathing picked up.

"Maria?" He grabbed her forcibly by the upper arms. "Look at me."

"Can we please go back now?" Maria asked.

"Do you need more water?" Michael asked. She could feel his eyes burning into her like the sun itself. "Maybe you're dehydrated. And the seizure-"

She looked up at him. "What did you find in there?"

Michael looked at her incredulously. "We can talk about that later, Ria. What's wrong with you? _You're_ what matters, okay?"

He cradled her face in his hands, Michael's movements were rarely gentle and now was no difference. His fear was making him more concise in his gestures, which only increased Maria's love for him. His passion, his wildness and raw nature were what she loved about him. And those characteristics were always felt through his hands, especially now. His thumbs were pressing hard into the soft pliable tissue of her cheeks, trying to knead the answers out of her.

But his statement had been enough to calm her. At least for now. For now, his declaration that she was the most important thing even in the aftermath of his discovery at the cave, soothed her nerves enough to bring her out of what would have been a panic attack.

His grip on her face relaxed somewhat as he felt her relax. "Talk to me," Michael demanded, not used to this speechless version of his girlfriend.

She inhaled deeply, a tear slipping out of her eye, and she placed her hands on top of his, gently pulling them away from her face. "I just got scared."

"About what? There's only you and me here."

"About what you might've found in there. That maybe it would make you leave…make you leave Earth."

Michael looked at her as if she had grown a second head and there was anger in his voice as he said, "I'm_here_, aren't I? Why would I leave?"

"I've never seen you so alive," Maria trembled and put her arms around his middle, burrowing her head into his shirt, burying herself in the smell of him. "It scared me."

He was silent for so long that she would have pulled back if he hadn't been placing random slow kisses against the top of her head.

"I'm not really sure what I found in there," he said after awhile.

Maria held her breath.

"But even if there had been detailed instructions on how to leave Earth and fly to another planet, a presumed home planet, I never would've left. _This_ is my home, Maria."

She looked up at him and he met her eyes honestly. "My home is where you are."

She stared at him for a couple of seconds before she started laughing. "Sorry, sorry," she mumbled as he started looking a bit hurt. "I just can't believe you're saying this. It was like pulling teeth to get you to admit that you loved me, but this…"

She shook her head in disbelief. Maybe he had been replaced in the cave. Maybe-

He forcibly gripped her chin, angling her head towards his and crashed their lips together. The kiss was heated, tongues dueling, hands wandering and they came out of it out of breath and even hotter than the sun above them.

Maria smiled. Nope. This was _her_ Michael. _Her_ beautiful alien.


	21. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER 20**  
_Max_

They needed someone to watch Liz tonight. Isabel had managed to stay around Liz for the majority of the 'outside of work'-time, rendering it impossible for Liz to end up in any danger. But Isabel had a feeling that Liz might find her a bit clingy if Liz's new friend continued to invite herself over to Liz's place to 'hang out'.

So Max's sister had suggested that Max ask Liz out for a date. That would mean that, at least for _that_evening, Liz would be safe. And hopefully Max would make such a good impression that Liz would be up to meeting up again. And again.

What Max didn't like about the whole thing was that it had become a project. Instead of him liking Liz and_wanting_ to ask her out, the reason for him to ask her out was just to create a repertoire so that he could more easily watch over her.

Seen from another perspective, this could also be called 'stalking'.

The truth was, Max really liked Liz and he really wanted to take her out on a date and get to know her better, which made this whole arrangement even harder. He was afraid that, when he finally told Liz about him and Isabel following her (which he had firmly informed Isabel that he would), it would sound as if he had only dated her to save her life.

The best thing would have been to tell her the truth from the start. Max scrubbed his hands down his face. Right. And how would that conversation go?

_Hey Liz, I've been having visions of you getting raped and murdered so now I just want to stalk you for awhile to make sure that doesn't happen._

The risk of her taking that the wrong way (well, several wrong ways) was pretty big.

Which was why he found himself standing outside of Liz's apartment door building up the courage to ring the bell. He raised his hand to press the door bell and was interrupted by his phone, vibrating in his back pocket. Fishing it out and glancing at the caller id, he pressed 'Deny' and put the phone back.

"Sorry, Michael," he murmured. "Not a good time."

He took a deep breath and rang the bell. His hands felt clammy and he was nervous. Really nervous. He brushed his palms against his jeans, trying to make them less sweaty.

Then the door opened and there she was. In a simple yellow dress (like the sun) and her dark hair in a pony tail with lose tendrils framing her face.

"Hi," she smiled and her whole face lit up.

Her beauty caused his heart to miss a beat. It wasn't just her outward appearance, there was something honest and open in her face, brightening her eyes, that made his whole body burn. Hence, his reply was more of a croak than a greeting, but Max hoped that she had gotten the general idea anyway.

"Let me just get a jacket," she said and he nodded mutely.

She was back before he'd had time to recuperate. There had been something missing about her the first time he had met her at that office party. He had noticed it then in the translucency of her skin, in the circles under her eyes. But today was different. Her cheeks were rosy, there was life in her chocolate brown eyes and there was a confident straightening of her spine, of her body.

She was in a word: exquisite.

"You look beautiful," Max said softly in the quiet moment as Liz pushed the key into the key-hole to lock her front door. She was very close to him then, standing just a feet away, her back to him, and he could smell strawberries around her.

He imagined that he could feel the heat rise on her cheeks as well as see it, as she answered, her eyes on the key, "Thank you," equally softly.

They were the only words to be exchanged in the total 6 minutes and 42 seconds it took for them to get out of the building and into Max's car. But somehow words weren't needed. This was not the interaction of awkward silences or embarrassing second-guessing. This was similar to the synergy of two individuals who had known each other for years, where words no longer were needed. And in a way they had known each other for years. In a way they even shared the same life force. But Max had only started to suspect this, whereas Liz was still unaware.

Liz had no idea that the man driving her to a restaurant in downtown Boston right now was the same person that had brought her back to life on a February morning about twenty years prior. Liz didn't even know that she had been dead once and brought back by the will of a 5-year-old boy.

"So where are you taking me?" Liz asked as she fastened her seatbelt.

"'Meritage'," Max replied, giving the name of a popular restaurant overlooking Boston inner harbor.

"Nice," Liz approved.

Max could feel her eyes watching him as he drove. After awhile, his curiosity took the best of him and he glanced over at her with a smile, "What?"

He could feel her body temperature rise again (or so he envisioned) as she dropped her gaze guiltily. Her voice was soft as she said, "I'm just happy to be here."

Max had a feeling that it wasn't the whole truth, but was flattered nonetheless. Especially since, "The night hasn't even started yet."

She shook her head, looking over at him through those long dark lashes. "I just have a good feeling about this one."

He laughed. "Fair enough."

He took her hand as they walked up to the entrance, the same pleasant thrill moving through him as when they had first shook hands. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, wondering if she could feel it too. Wondering if she also believed that this was the start of something big.

He marveled at the smallness of her hand, which had him thinking of her slight figure and her small height. He hadn't thought about it before, that she was more than a head smaller than him, but it was something in how she carried herself that made him forget. Forget how vulnerable she looked in her yellow dress and low-heeled shoes.

His breath caught as she rearranged her grip on his fingers (his heart faltering some in disappointment, thinking that she wanted to let go of his hand) to interlace their fingers instead. A lovers' hold. When he turned expectant and surprised eyes on her profile, she bit her bottom lip in a small smile instead of meeting his eyes. He pulled on her hand so that her body got closer to his, hip to hip.

And so they flowed through the movements, like dancers doing a well-known dance, taking their seats with the view of the boats in the harbor, ordering wine, sharing small secretive glances between topics and ever so subtly letting their fingers brush against each other above the surface of the table. The conversation ranged from 'What did you want to be when you were little?' (Liz: a dancer, Max: an astronaut) to 'What's your deepest fear?' (Liz: losing her father, Max: being exposed) as the small lights outside in the harbor grew stronger in the darkening evening sky.

It was over a piece of chocolate cake that Liz, with a small spoon of cake poised in front of her mouth, said, "I feel like I've met you before."

Placing the spoon with cake in her mouth and feeling the taste ignite her taste buds, Liz missed Max's initial paleness. But as he remained silent, the cake was left to melt on its own in her mouth as she placed her hand over his. "Are you okay?"

"Um," Max tried and cleared his throat. "Yeah, um. Yeah, it does feel like that, doesn't it?"

Max felt his heart beat hard in his chest, trying to get out (Liz was feeling it too, but couldn't understand why) and balled his hand into a fist beneath Liz's, before pulling it away. He used it to thread fingers through his hair. Why was he reacting like this? He was usually the master of avoiding questions, of sidestepping suspicions. His whole survival relied on it. But Liz put him off balance. He would say that it was generally a good thing, but not when it came to protecting his past.

"Yeah," Liz said quietly and Max felt her eyes follow his every movement with a furrow between her beautiful eyes. She knew something was off.

"Liz," Max said and inhaled, bracing himself. "Isabel told me that you lost your mother."

Max felt a piece of himself die as Liz pulled her own hand back, which had been left waiting in the center of the table as Max had withdrawn, and lowered her eyes to the table. He knew it was a low blow, but he needed something to really distract her from her previous statement and his behavior.

Maybe it had only been a rhetorical question; people often said that it had felt like they had met before to innocently point out that they felt an instant kinship to someone. But his over-the-top reaction had messed it up and Liz was an intelligent woman; she could easily figure out that there was something in that presumed honest statement that had made Max nervous.

Very nervous.

"I'm sorry," Max said softly. Both to offer his condolence, but mostly to apologize for bringing it up.

"It was a car accident," Liz supplied, fingering the napkin across her knee. "She was killed instantaneously."

"You were there?"

Liz nodded. "I was thrown out of the car. Apparently, that saved me."

_Or not_, Max thought, knowing another truth.

"That's horrible," Max said, his feelings matching his words. It had been horrible. "What happened?"

"It was a truck that was loaded with some industrial metal pipes. I don't know if he lost control of the truck or the cargo wasn't properly fastened… There was a big investigation about it. Insurance companies and the truck company, for instance, needed proper answers. One of the metal pipes went…" Liz shivered "…straight through my mom."

Max did of course already know this, but it was a completely different experience to hear about it in Liz's shaken voice. "I can't even imagine…" He shook his head. "I'm so sorry for bringing it up."

"It's okay," she smiled at him faintly. "I would've told you eventually. And since Isabel already knew…"

As her voice trailed off, Max asked softly, "Do you remember your mom?"

Liz shook her head slowly. "You know, I have an almost photographic memory, but no, I can't remember her. There are faint memory glimpses whenever I see a photo of her, but I can't remember what she smelled like, what her laughter sounded like…"

"We don't have to talk about this," Max mumbled.

Tears were shimmering in her eyes, she looked as if she was barely hanging on.

"Yeah," she nodded, looking down at the napkin she was fiddling with in her lap. "Maybe we should talk about something else."

"Like, what's your favorite ice-cream flavor?"

That pulled at the corners of her mouth and she shot him a grateful look (a look Max didn't feel that he deserved after having pulled up the your-mother-died-in-a-horrific-car-accident topic), before answering, "Strawberry."

"You know," Max said, "I thought you would say that."

"How come?" she asked lightly, looking forward to hearing his answer.

"Because you smell like strawberries," Max answered and watched Liz blush.

"I do not."

He laughed lightly. "Yeah, you do. It's a very pleasant smell. Very sweet, very you."

She bit her bottom lip. "That's odd, since I don't really use any strawberry products. Except consume massive amounts of strawberry ice-cream of course."

"Maybe that's it then," Max said, picking up a spoonful of his own piece of chocolate cake. "There's strawberries coming out through your pores because of that ice-cream."

Having regained some of her appetite, Liz mimicked his motion and put another piece of cake in her mouth. In response to his reply, she just angled her face and gave him a secretive smile.

Max could feel himself falling for her. With every gesture, every laugh, every smile, he found himself getting deeper and deeper.

_Oh, I'm in trouble._

* * *

_Liz_

There was something that Max Evans wasn't telling her. She was sure of it.

It was in how he elaborately avoided some questions, like the most skilled politician, and how she would at times catch him looking at her with a knowing look. As if he knew something about her that she didn't.

Which is why she had brought up the fact that it felt as if they had met before. Even though he had been good at sidestepping her other questions, this one had fallen flat. This one had made him act a bit out of character.

It was not until they were seated in his car, on the way back to her apartment, that she realized that he had never given her a proper answer to that statement. Instead, he had (seemingly out of the blue) brought up her mother's death.

It was bound to happen sooner or later. It always had a way of sneaking its way into the conversation, especially on dates, because at some point the guy would usually ask about your parents, your childhood or siblings or something similar.

But Max had jumped straight from her statement about them possibly having met before to the death of her mother.

For some reason, she didn't think that was a coincidence. Liz Parker had a feeling that it was an easy connection for Max Evans to make, further confirming her inexplicable feelings for this person that she was not supposed to know too well. At least not after having met twice.

She wanted to confront him, but should that be sooner rather than later? Would it be better to do it early so that they had a chance to pull out of this thing they were starting without causing too much havoc to their lives? Or would it be better to wait, letting the information seep out on its own while they got to know each other better?

Liz's nature was too curious to wait, so in the end, "When was the first time you met me?"

He did a pretty good job at hiding his surprise, but Liz felt the car slightly drift to the side before he steered it back on track.

"Um… Is this a trick question?" He smiled cautiously, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Maybe," Liz answered.

She watched his profile turn hard, saw the muscles around his jaw ripple as he clenched his teeth together. His voice was as tight as his stance as he replied, "My sister's office party, last weekend."

"Is that the truth?" Liz questioned, barely blinking, not wanting to miss a second of his reaction. Because his body language was not as good at lying as his spoken language was. He seemed to be holding his breath, his hands tight on the steering wheel, as if debating with himself.

"Max," Liz said slowly, her voice devoid of any accusations. She just wanted to know. "When did you first meet me?"

"1996."

Liz's forgot to breathe, her thoughts running wild in her mind. It didn't have to mean anything. He could have met her at a birthday party or through his parents.

_My mother died in 1996._

"How?" she whispered and Max glanced at her white face before switching on the indicator and pulling to a stop at the side of the road. He turned off the ignition and grew still, his hands still on the steering wheel, looking blankly out on the road in front of him.

"Max?" Liz whispered, scared.

_It probably doesn't mean anything, why are you making such a big deal out of this?_ But why could she feel his nervousness right now, amplifying her own? Why could she feel the hard pressure of the steering wheel against the palms of her hands which were folded in her lap?

"I was there," Max said softly, still not looking at her. "At the night of the accident."

"When my mom…"

Max nodded and turned slightly, connecting his glistening sad eyes with hers. "My family… My mom, my dad, Isabel and I were in the car behind yours."

Liz breathed deeply, purposefully. _Don't pass out. Don't pass out._ "What else?"

He hesitated before continuing, his voice haunted, "My parents didn't know about you at first. They only saw your mom because she was still in the car. I was sitting in the front seat so I saw you."

"Okay…" she whispered.

Max shifted restlessly in his seat, "I thought you were clothes or a bag or something at first, so I left the car to see and discovered that you were a person. You were bleeding-"

Liz nodded. "My mom's blood…"

He hesitated again and his voice was unconvincing as he agreed, "Yeah, your mom's blood was all over you."

A clear picture of a blonde woman with a worried and kind face flashed in front of Liz's eyes. "Your mom…"

Max nodded. "My mom joined us not too long after and she was the one holding you when you woke up."

"I remember your mom," Liz said and the first tears of many rolled down her cheek. "I remember your mom, but I don't remember _my_ mom." A sob broke through her and she could see Max's lost expression through the sheen of her tears. "But you were there too."

"My mom told me to get a blanket as you woke up. You must've seen me when I returned. I saw you watching me."

She wiped at the tears with the back of her hand. "But how… How do you remember me?"

He shook his head sadly. "It's not a thing you forget. That day…"

"No," she whispered. "No, I mean. How do you remember me? You _recognized_ me that night at the party, but how would you know what I looked like as an adult?"

He shook his head slowly. "I don't know."

She felt as if his reply was partly true, but there was something in it that didn't make sense. "If it was a simple case of just recognizing me, then why didn't you tell me?"

He looked at her incredulously. "Would you have believed me? If I told you that I thought you were the girl at this car accident I had witnessed when I was just five years old and that I now recognized you as an adult?"

She frowned. "But I can feel it too. The recognition. Like I _know_ you. This is not normal. This is something else. There's something more to this."

"Maybe," he said weakly, looking away. A telltale sign of a lie, by the book.

Liz appraised the stiffness of his profile, felt the distance between them, and swallowed back a sob. "Sometimes I even imagine that I can feel what you're feeling." She felt herself grow cold as he grew stiff. "Just like I can feel you closing off right now."

He shook his head, not meeting her eyes, and she bit her bottom lip, hard.

"I…I'm sorry, Liz," he said weakly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

There were suddenly too many emotions inside of her chest, pushing to break out. She knew that she sounded ridiculous, a bit nuts even, by suggesting that they had some telepathic bond. But his dismissive reaction to her vulnerable submission had crushed her heart with betrayal. She felt hurt and exposed. A freezing cold emotion was chilling her inside and out.

She let her eyes drop to her lap as she mumbled, "Would you take me home now?", tears still running down her face.

"Yes," he said solemnly, started the car and drove Liz to her apartment in silence.


	22. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER 21**  
_Tess_

Who knew that surveillance could be this boring?

Tess fast forwarded again, yawning with her heavy head supported in her hand. Or maybe it wasn't surveillance that was boring. Maybe it was Maxwell Evans that was boring.

Tess had watched him arrive at his apartment late on Saturday night and aimlessly walk around the apartment for about ten minutes, before taking a seat on the couch and clicking through one TV-channel after the other. If Tess had known Max, she would have easily picked up on the patterns of distress, the restlessness in his desultory actions and how he was generally beating himself up about something.

But Tess didn't know Max. Tess had never met Max. She was not even afflicted with strong empathic abilities. So how could she possible tell, from the slightly pixelated black and white aerial recording of an apartment, that Max was having a really bad night?

She pressed fast forward again, watching Max make small movements occasionally, slightly jarred due to the increased pace of the playback, and then he disappeared into the bathroom (Tess didn't have any camera there) to reappear a couple of minutes later and head for his bedroom.

Even though Max, so far, seemed to be a total bore, he sure was easy on the eyes. It was not only his face (which stared up at her from the photo in the open manila folder next to her on the bed where she sat with the laptop heating her thighs) that was very attractive. Walking topless into his bedroom, Max was no stranger to upper body exercises, that was for sure.

She skipped the night (exceptionally boring to watch someone sleep) and rolled into Sunday morning, when Max seemed to receive a couple of phone calls that he ignored to answer in favor of spending the majority of the hours of the morning in bed, hiding his head under a pillow. The small digital clock at the bottom of her screen told her that it was little after noon when Max was forced out of bed by an insistent knocking on the front door. Max opened the door to Michael.

Of course it was Michael Guerin, Tess noted. Who else would be so annoyingly persistent? She reached forward to turn on the sound she had muted earlier. Maybe something was finally about to happen.

"Above answering your phone, your Highness?" was Michael's tensed greeting.

"Sorry," Max mumbled and brushed a hand down his face. He did that a lot, Tess observed.

"What if I had something important to say, huh?"

"I always answer, Michael, you know that. I just…couldn't yesterday."

"What's up with you? You look like shit."

"Long story," Max grumbled and stepped aside to gesture for Michael to come inside.

"I got one for you too."

"Isabel told me. That you went to Roswell."

_Roswell? Why would Michael go to Roswell? Did he keep in contact with his foster father?_

Michael walked straight into the kitchen and retrieved a Snapple from the refrigerator; making himself right at home. "I went to the cave."

Tess straightened up against the pillows propped up against her back.

Max echoed Tess' internal question, "Why?"

"How many chambers were there in the cave?"

Max followed Michael with his eyes as he slumped down in an armchair, opening the Snapple. Tess suddenly struggled to remember how to breathe in the comfort of her bed that Monday night.

_Chambers._ She had thought of them as pods, but there was no question that they were talking about the same thing.

"It _is_ you," Tess whispered to the screen. "You were in that cave with me…"

She'd always had a suspicion about Michael, since they met at the orphanage, and the information the PI had dug out seemed to have grounded her suspicions further. But this… It must be them.

The conversation continued in the apartment.

"Three," Max replied. "One for each of us."

Tess narrowed her eyes. _Three? They don't know that you exist. They don't know that there's four pods._

Michael shook his head in negative. "No."

"No?"

"I had this dream about the cave. There were four chambers."

_Well, fuck me backwards. Michael Guerin has the answers._

"It was just a dream, right?"

"So you're the only one with 'truth'-dreams? That's why I wanted to check. I had to see if there were really just three compartments."

Max sank down on the edge of the couch, staring at Michael, his voice barely a whisper, "And?"

"There's four," Michael said evenly. "And they're all broken. I mean, opened. Which means that _four_individuals left the cave."

"Who's the fourth?"

"That, my dear Maximilian, is the 64 million dollar question."

Max stared off into the distance, pondering this. Michael was taking slow sips from his Snapple. Tess was biting the nail polish off her nails.

"Maybe it's Liz," Max said quietly.

"Vision-girl?"

_Vision-girl?_

"Because of the dreams-"

_Who the hell was Vision-girl?_

Michael shook his head. "Nah, it doesn't make sense. She had _real_ parents, she wasn't adopted, right?"

"Yeah," Max agreed. A bit reluctantly, Tess noted.

Then Tess came to think of the one Liz she had met not too long ago, who happened to be friends with Isabel. Coincidence? Probably not.

"That mousy, boring girl has some kind of connection to Max Evans?" Tess mumbled and then cursed herself as she talked over Michael, having to reverse the recording some.

"…she wasn't adopted, right?" Michael repeated as Tess pressed 'play'.

"Yeah."

"What about the blonde girl?"

Tess moved the laptop off her lap and put it in front of her, bending her knees up to her chin and increased the volume. _The blonde._

Max didn't seem too convinced about Michael's suggestion as he remained silent, so Michael pressed on. "She's been in your dreams too, so maybe she also has a connection but a different one. Like the one you and Isabel felt with me when we met. Because there's no one else you've saved, right? Like you did with Liz."

_What was this whole 'saving'-crap they kept mentioning?_

"Possibly," Max nodded. "But I know nothing about her. It was pure luck that I stumbled upon Liz - or that Isabel did. It might take years to find the blonde, if she even exists, if she's still alive, if she's the fourth one."

"A lot of ifs," Michael agreed, nodding.

"What else did you see in the cave?"

"For starters, it almost killed Maria."

Max jumped up from the couch. "What?!"

_This Maria-girl must mean a lot to Max,_ Tess mused. She could see that Max had a lot more to say, but seemed to swallow it back in favor of, "What happened?"

"She's fine," Michael assured and he had tensed up, possibly expecting to be yelled at. "There seems to be a barrier surrounding the cave. I felt it as a small current going through my body, but it made Maria have a seizure. She didn't come out of it until I moved her away from there."

_Interesting_, Tess thought. She had only taken a chance about putting in surveillance, on the off-chance that they actually knew something. She hadn't been too hopeful that they would actually provide her with something she didn't know. This was good. This was really good.

"Also, when I got inside and touched the front chambers, yours and Isabel's, the broken front kinda wanted to crumble so I stopped touching them. But when I reached mine it held its shape, as if it recognized me."

Max seemed stunned into silence, so Michael continued, "There's like this red dome thing at the top of each chamber and when I touched it, it came to life. But nothing happened. I didn't get any visions or flashes or anything, so that was a bust. Here, I took a photo."

Michael whipped out his smart phone and pulled out the photo album, stumbling upon another photo first, which Tess of course couldn't see from her vantage point.

"Oh, wait. This was on the wall running into my area of the cave. Can you read it?"

He handed the phone to Max and Max used his fingers to zoom in and zoom out the photo while moving it back and forth. He did that for about a minute (_It must be some kind of text,_ Tess guessed) before handing the phone back to Michael.

"I recognize it and it feels very familiar. We should print it out and maybe if I look at it long enough I'll find a pattern."

"Sure," Michael nodded and pulled out the photo he had previously looked for. "This is the dome."

"It looks organic," Max noted, looking at the photo. "So you think this is some kind of…heart?"

"More like the brain or power supply. It felt as if it had been the one in charge of the oven cooking us, you know."

Max nodded. "Sounds about right."

Tess noticed a clear exhilaration in Michael's body language and speech. Finding this much information probably didn't belong to the ordinary of these people's lives.

"And the fourth chamber was even further in?" Max questioned.

"Yeah, a bit more difficult to find."

"But someone found their way out… This is great, Mike. We should try and see if we can find something about a fourth person with a similar background as us."

_Crap,_ Tess thought. _Now they'll come looking for me. Time for some damage control._

* * *

_Special agent Joel Martin_

Joel Martin was one of the younger FBI agents at the local field office of Albuquerque. His speciality was computer science, which made him very good at acquiring information for his colleagues. He was also something of a genius in mathematics, which certainly assisted his gambling addiction in the illegal activity mostly known as 'counting cards'. Still, his 'luck' had a tendency to not help him the whole way, putting him in constant debt. That's where being an expert at gathering information had a advantageous side. Not surprisingly, there were a lot of people willing to pay good money for information. Especially highly classified information.

Sure, sometimes his conscience glared at him (he had after all became an FBI agent because he wanted to uphold the law and protect his country), but it was a moral detail that he was willing to overlook in the threatening light of owing people money. His little gaming problem was not known to the Bureau (not yet); they probably wouldn't let him handle confidential information in that case. He might even be suspended from his work.

Especially considering that he had caught glimpses into a highly secretive branch that was specific to his field office. The division went under the name of Mogul, which had been a top secret project operated by the US Army Air Force in the 1940's.

A TV-show had in the 90's put a different name to that very same division; 'The X-files'.

But even though Joel was certain the hype about that TV-show had made his superiors a bit anxious, the Mogul project had remained. To the general public, the Mogul project was discontinued in 1949 and was blamed by the government to having launched the air balloon that later came to be the explanation of the presumed alien crash in 1947. Although, the division hadn't been able to hide the fact that their records showed that the army hadn't had an air balloon in the air at the time of the crash.

So the question still remained; if it had not been an air balloon that fell that night, what had it been?

Apparently, there had been a lot of activity around this theory in 1994 (before Joel's time at the Bureau), but since then the division appeared to have been heavily downsized. Just like some parts of the US government monitored the internet for specific keywords to monitor terrorism (assassination, homeland security, anthrax, to name a few), the Mogul division monitored the internet for keywords like Roswell incident, conspiracy, air balloon and of course, aliens. This kept the majority of the division in work full-time thanks to the general public's heightened interest in science fiction and the occult. Separating facts from fiction became an annoying but very real problem.

Which is why Joel was personally intrigued when he was approached by a private investigator, asking for possible information on three individuals in their mid-twenties. Since most of the information gathered could be explained to be bogus in this vampire- and alien-loving nation, it was rare that someone actually ended up in the records. Hence, Joel hadn't anticipated to find anything when carrying out the PI's request.

Imagine his surprise when he had found three comprehensive files on three kids leading, seemingly innocent, lives in Boston, Massachusetts. Undeterred by the fact that the information had been compiled in the boring, fact-based manner of a instruction manual, Joel was captivated by the stories.

Even though he had gotten well paid for handing over copies of the highly classified material to that private investigator, Joel couldn't help but seeing the larger picture. How could he make more money out of this? Was there more information to be found that he, the mathematical genius, would be able to acquire?

And so he had found Theresa Harding, whose background check matched that of Michael Guerin, on of the Boston-kids.

And while Ms. Harding had taken it upon herself to watch Maxwell Evans, Theresa Harding was now being watched by FBI-agent Joel Martin. With highly advanced FBI surveillance equipment.


	23. Chapter 22

**CHAPTER 22**  
_Max_

Max's third seizure happened when he was alone in his apartment. His body had by now learned to recognize the pre-tell signs of what was about to happen. So when he felt the coldness wash over him as he put his toothbrush into the glass by the sink, he knew what was going to happen but didn't have time to do anything about it.

His head hit the hard porcelain sink as he collapsed and blood sipped out of the consequential wound as his body slumped to the white bathroom floor.

This time, there was no experienced and medically trained colleague or worried sister around. This time, there was no one to support or angle his head so that he wouldn't choke on his own saliva.

Fortunately, he had landed face down this time.

If he had been a regular human being, he would have seen a doctor about his seizures right about now. If he had been a regular human being, he might already be on strong anti-epileptic medication to decrease the risk of reoccurrences. But he was a hybrid between alien and human DNA, with red blood cells that took on a green hue under the magnifying effect of the microscope pumping through his veins and fueling his human brain cells in a very non-human way.

In the end, this increased brain activity was the origin to his seizures in an almost ironic case of pot meet kettle. This highly oxygenated brain enabled Max to heat up cold coffee, shave without using a razor, get glimpses of the future and cure cancer. The convulsions was an unfortunate side effect of the limits to his very humanly constructed brain. Humans were not supposed to be able to see the future, even if the alien part of him would try its best.

In this Tuesday evening special of foreshadowing, Max watched himself become part of the equation as the premonition wound him back to a different starting point than previously.

He was, as usual, unable to affect his environment as he found himself standing in the middle of Isabel's workplace. The people were buzzing around him, unaware of his presence. Trying to get a sense of what he was doing there, Max was interrupted by himself, stepping out of the elevator. He watched how nervous this future version of himself looked, walking with purposeful steps towards one of the back offices. The invisible Max decided to follow.

His future replica stopped in front of the wooden door marked with 'Elizabeth Parker' and his shoulders rose shakily as he took a deep breath. Then he knocked.

"Yes?"

Max slipped in between the door and the doorframe as his more solid copy nervously walked into the room.

"Max," Liz said quietly, looking up from behind a huge desk. "Now is really not a good time."

"Liz, please," Max said softly.

Max didn't envy his future self. Liz's evasive movements, the signs of fear in her eyes, was unnerving. "I can't do this right now, Max. I'm working."

"I know," future Max said apologetically. "But I have to explain myself."

"It's just too weird." She was refocusing on the papers in front of her, as if he would disappear if she wasn't looking at him.

"There's things I can tell you. But not yet."

She looked up, hurt in her eyes. "Then why are you here?"

His future self ignored the question, evading it in a way that he knew so well. After all, he was watching himself lie. "Do you really think that I have an explanation as to why you seem to be able to feel what I feel?"

Her eyes were hard. Unrelenting. "Yes."

_Crap,_ Max thought. _This is close to the present. This is our first conversation after that disastrous end to our date the other night._

"Why do you think I have more information than you?"

She shrugged. "Just a feeling."

He could see himself getting frustrated and he knew why. Liz wasn't buying it. Liz was seeing right through him and she wouldn't let him in before he told her the truth. But he couldn't tell her. In the best case scenario, she would have him locked up in a mental institution. Worst case scenario, he would be the government's newest guinea pig.

"Liz, it's important that you don't leave work alone tonight."

_Whoa. Where did that come from?_

Liz stilled. "What?"

"Just take my word for it, okay? I can't explain it right now, but you're in danger."

She was frowning, wearing a confusing expression of anger and fear. "You better tell me right now…"

Future Max shook his head.

_You're about to break down, man,_ Max thought as he watched himself sway slightly on the spot.

"I can't. It's not only up to me."

Liz stared at him and then started collecting her papers into a pile, before standing up with the pile in her hands, moving quickly towards the door, while angrily mumbling, "This is ridiculous."

Future Max reached out for her at the same time as invisible Max as she passed between them. The hand of the observing version of Max went through air while his alter ego grabbed Liz by the upper arm. "_Please,_Liz."

She stopped and said calmly, "Don't touch me."

"Liz…"

"Max," she interrupted, looking straight at him. "Without an explanation, your 'warning' mostly sounds like a threat. I barely know you, what if _you're_ the danger?"

He shook his head and removed his hand. "I'm not."

"I don't appreciate being lied to, especially not about something that… something that might jeopardize my life as you so quickly want to warn me about. If my life really were in danger, isn't that reason enough to tell me _why_ that is?"

"Just trust me."

"I'm sorry, Max," a tear of disappointment slid out of her eye and the observing Max withered under her pain.

Max grabbed her hand as she was about to pull the door open. She stopped, looking down at their connected hands. "Don't be alone tonight, please. Would you do this one thing for me? Just trust me."

She looked up and stared at him for the longest of seconds before she pulled her hand away. "Okay. I'll find someone."

Future Max seemingly collapsed with relief while Observing Max wanted to sit down on the floor in knee-buckling reprieve.

But that's not how it had happened afterwards, because the world changed around him and Max found himself back on that dark empty street, hearing the approaching running steps of her high-heeled shoes. For some reason, she had left alone that night, against his pleading warning. And now he had to watch her die. Again.

Max had come to on his tiled bathroom floor, in a small pool of his own blood. With a pounding headache, it was a wonder he had managed to return to consciousness. But Max was worried that wonder might not last much longer. With what seemed a monumental effort he managed to pull his cell phone out of his back pocket and dialed the person listed at the top of his 'Favorites'-folder.

"Isabel," his sister answered after four very long rings.

"Iz," he croaked.

"Max?" There was instant worry in her voice and Max knew that she understood the severity. Isabel went straight into action. "Where are you?"

"I'm hurt," Max mumbled. His tongue felt heavy, his eyelids were begging to drop. "I'm home. Bathroom. Alone."

"I'll be right there."

He never registered her hanging up, the phone slipping out of his grip as he floated back into the world of the Unconscious.

Next thing he knew, Isabel was shaking him and her voice covered him on all sides. "Please, Max. Wake up."

"Iz?"

Her worried, tear-streaked face come into view and she whispered, "Hey."

Max said the first thing that came to mind, considering that his head was pounding, "I'm hurt."

"Yeah," Isabel whispered, "Hard to miss." She was referring to the blood. The blood that had started to dry on the floor and on his face. "Can you heal yourself?"

He just wanted to sleep. It was not possible for him to heal himself in this condition. His reply became a painful groan.

"Okay," Isabel whispered, frenzy in her voice. "Okay."

Max closed his eyes. "I can, but you have to help me."

He missed the relief on her face. "What? Tell me what to do? Max, I can't lose you."

She started sobbing, barely containing the fear any longer. Finding your brother bleeding and unconscious on a white bathroom floor will do that to a person.

"You have to feed me energy." He managed to move his hand to the edge of his head wound and Isabel, seeing his intention, rearranged his hand so that it was completely covering the wound.

"Keep your…" he sighed, fighting the dizziness, "…your hand on top of mine and try and give me energy."

They had done this before, in one of their let's-see-what-we're-really-capable-of exercises with Michael. Through complete focus they could share energy between each other, making one of them momentarily stronger, making their abilities stronger. But it would be hard for Isabel to do so right now. They had never tried it under emotional stress.

"You can do it," Max whispered, sensing her distress. "I'll be okay. Calm down and concentrate."

The pressure of the task was monumental, but she forced herself to wind-down letting the outside world fade away until there was only her and Max's breathing. She focused on synchronizing her breathing with his, imagined the cold floor against her back (which was her brother's current position) and the feel of coagulated blood against her palm where his hand was being held against the wound.

Within seconds she felt her hand tingling where it was connected with the back of Max's hand. She opened the eyes that she had closed earlier and watched as well as felt a faint glow surround Max's palm and his forehead. They had never tried healing as part of their exercises and the action was thrilling and awe-inspiring while she could feel how much energy it pulled from her. Healing demanded power. Lots of it. An errant thought fluttered through her mind (_How was Max able to bring someone back from the dead and survive?_) as she felt the broken skin mend beneath Max's palm.

"Thank you," Max whispered with a gasp and Isabel was pushed out of the connection. Max had done so, probably protecting her from using too much of her strength.

"Are you okay?" Isabel asked.

"I will be," Max replied. "I just need to sleep."

He felt himself drifting off and then there was just darkness, until he woke up in his bed in his dark bedroom.

"He's awake," someone said and a trail of light entered the room as the door was pushed open.

Max pushed up on his elbows to see Michael seated in an armchair at the other end of the room. Isabel entered through the bedroom door, relief printed into every detail of her face.

"Hey buddy," Michael said as he got up and moved closer to the bed. "How're you feeling?"

"Better," Max answered.

"You scared your sister half to death," Michael informed.

"I know," Max nodded and looked over at his sister.

"How's your head?" Isabel asked.

"As good as new," Max replied. "We need to talk."

"No kidding," Michael said. "Was it another seizure?"

"Yeah," Max nodded. "And I think I might know how to prevent the future from happening."


	24. Chapter 23

**CHAPTER 23**  
_Liz_

Elizabeth Parker's last day alive (at least according to the premonitory vision of an alien) started with an unpleasant encounter with David Perkins. Well, it had actually started with her pulling herself out of bed, her mind filled with thoughts of a certain dark-haired guy, and deciding to skip breakfast after a nauseated glance in the refrigerator.

It had then proceeded with her getting to work (by foot because she needed the walk) and getting to work way too early (because she had skipped breakfast). But she was not the first one there. Except from two security guards, the charming David Perkins was already in his office.

_Dammit_, she thought as she saw the light in his office and actually considered taking her shoes off so she'd have a chance at sneaking past him without being discovered.

But her thought got no farther than that before David looked up and noticed her. It had taken him a day off work to get back to his old very-much-in-control-of-his-surroundings version of himself after the rather odd show he had put on the week before.

He had since continued to pester Liz's existence with your everyday sexual suggestions and snarky questions about her relationship with Max. And after things with Max had ended kinda badly two nights before, Liz was really not in the mood to talk to a man where the only reprieve of the conversation had been thinking that she had at least had a guy like Max to defend her dignity. She wasn't so sure anymore. Maybe Max was just as good of a liar as all the other men she had come into contact with during her lifetime.

"Elizabeth Parker, as I live and breathe," David announced, looking delighted. "What are you doing here so early?"

She forced a smile on her face. "Hi, Mr. Perkins. I thought I would get an early start. There's a lot to do."

"But to be here all alone?" David questioned and rose from his seat.

"Only for another half an hour," Liz said, glancing at the big clock on the wall. As she watched David approach, as if he was preying on an animal, she realized that half an hour could be a long time.

A lot of things could happen in 30 minutes.

He stopped approximately three feet in front of her, angling his head to the side, "You're looking beautiful today, Ms. Parker."

She dipped her eyes, trying to avoid those dark eyes of his while he interpreted her aversion as shyness. Her voice was, however, tight as she responded, "Thank you."

She startled as she felt his finger against her cheek. She took a step back, but he followed, trapping her between the wall and his body.

"David…" she whispered, shocked. Her heart was beating hard in her chest as he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"You're attracted to me, aren't you, Ms. Parker?" he whispered, his voice hot and suffocating against her face.

She pressed her head as far back as it could go and turned her head slightly downwards. His arms were supported on the wall on either side of her upper body, trapping her in a cage of David.

"Mr. Perkins, I really don't think it's appropri-"

"I think you come in here every day, all dolled up, to tease me," he murmured, brushing his finger down the line of her jaw. "I think you are a tease, Ms. Parker."

"No," she shook her head, the fear freezing her in place.

Normally, she wouldn't allow for something like this. Normally she would kick and scream. But there was something in his eyes that transfixed her, made her weak and paralyzed by fear. She had an instinctual feeling that he was the kind of man that could turn very dangerous if you were to choose the violent method of fighting back.

She closed her eyes, nausea making her dizzy, as his hand glided down the right side of her body, leaving coldness in its wake as it traced the curve of her waist and the shape of her bottom.

"Mr. Perkins, I'm sorry if I've given you that impression," Liz tried to reason, "but I only wish for a strictly professional relationship with you."

He grabbed her by the chin so hard and quickly that she jumped and bit her bottom lip. She tasted blood as she raised her eyes to David's. Her tone was different as she met his gaze head-on, the fear feeding another impulse (survival instinct) in her, "Let go of me."

David made a tsk tsk sound. "Now, don't turn all bitchy on me, Ms. Parker."

"What's going on here?"

David and Liz were equally startled by their boss' appearance. Even though Liz was not to blame, she could feel shame coloring her cheeks. This really wasn't an appropriate situation to be seen in by your employer.

David took a step back, letting go off her chin.

"Good morning, sir," David said in an utterly professional tone.

"Is everything alright?" Mr. Smith asked and looked closely at Liz. Liz could see a hint of concern in her employer's eyes, giving her the impression that her boss knew that Liz was not party to this incident.

Liz swallowed, the adrenaline from David's actions hitting her once her body started to relax, making her tremble. She nodded. "Everything's fine. I should get back to my office."

"Be my guest," David said and gestured into the direction of her office. As she turned to leave, she caught the darkness of his glare. "We'll continue this conversation later."

Liz shivered in the stark white light of the office lights, but managed to keep her feet moving. As she walked by her boss, she managed a smile. "Good morning, sir."

Mr. Smith nodded. "Ms. Parker."

Liz was not privy to the conversation that followed as Mr. Smith entered David's office, closing the door behind him, but she couldn't care less. She just wanted to get to her office and rationalize away what had just happened.

* * *

_Isabel_

She watched Michael pace the floor of Max's living room. He was pissed.

"We've been over this before, Maxwell," Michael said tensely. "You might've been too young to think it through properly when you healed Maria and exposed yourself. And of course, I'm happy that you did, otherwise she wouldn't be part of our family, but… Kids are more easily convinced, more easily lulled into loyalty. There's a high, very high, possibility that this Liz will turn you in. And that we'll be next."

"I don't think she will. She just needs answers."

Isabel sighed. "Answers we can't give her, Max."

"Humans can't understand this," Michael pressed on. "Humans compartmentalize. What they can't understand they fear and it will become a question of us versus them. Liz being part of the 'them'-category, of course. Do you really think she's going to trust you after you tell her? Do you think she'll even like you?"

"Just look at it from her perspective," Isabel piped in.

She could see what this was doing to her brother. She knew the feeling. Michael had Maria, he didn't _need_anyone else in his life. Isabel had been tempted on several occasions to tell the truth to the person she was in love with at the time, but the extraterrestrials had made a pact when they were 18.

It was against the rules to tell, to reveal and expose.

The rules _they've_ made to keep themselves safe. They couldn't trust anyone. Especially not love interests.

And Isabel was suspecting that Liz might have become a love interest of Max's.

"Humans are taught by TV and film to fear aliens," Isabel continued. "Aliens are not trustworthy; their sole interest in Earth is to colonize it or destroy it, both of those options always resulting in the extinction of the human race. We're appalling creatures with large heads and small asexual bodies. We read minds and probably have brains for breakfast."

"But _we_ know that's not true," Max pleaded.

"And that won't make a difference," Michael argued. "Max. You can't. It's a simple as that."

"She'll die," Max said, getting angry. "Do you want to have her death on your conscience?"

"Maybe she's meant to die," Michael said.

"Like Maria," Max voiced.

Isabel watched Michael's face darken. The ever sore spot between the two men in her life. "Max, don't-"

"I should've let her die, is that what you're saying? Because she was _meant to_?"

"Fuck you," Michael mumbled, but he remained rooted to his spot. Isabel was nevertheless expecting him to lunge himself at Max any time now.

"Who are you to decide whom I save, huh?" Max exploded.

"It _is_ our decision," Michael boomed back, echoing Max's explosion. "Whatever _you_ do affects us."

"Calm down," Isabel said, stepping between the men. "There's no reason why you can't discuss this in a calm manner."

Max turned his back on them and punched a frustrated fist into the wall. Isabel jumped. She had never seen her brother this angry.

She moved towards him, "Max, come on," and tried to put calming hands on his upper arms, but he shook her off.

"No," he said in a dark low voice. "No."

"Max," Isabel whispered, feeling broken. She hated not being able to help, hated to to see her brother in pain. But at the same time, she was deathly afraid of ending up in a research facility being prodded and experimented on.

Max leaned back against the wall and let his back slide down the wall as his legs collapsed underneath him. He buried his head in his arms and mumbled, "She's really important to me, can't you see that?"

There was a moment of silence, before Michael replied seriously, "Who's more important, Max? Liz or us?"

Isabel looked down at her brother in sorrow. She knew that it was an unfair question to ask, but it was also true. That's what it came down to. Either Max would continue to protect their secret or he would choose to protect Liz.

"There's no knowing for sure that she'll let you protect her if you tell her the truth," Isabel tried, her voice softening.

Max raised his head. "I know what will happen if I _don't_ tell her the truth, so telling her is the only option."

"Why not preventing her from getting killed by chaining her to a desk?" Michael supplied and Max shot him a look of hot death.

"Kidding," Michael tried, but Max was beyond joking.

"I'm begging you," Max said, his glistening eyes pleading as they shifted between the two people that meant the world to him, "Let me tell her."

There was silence and Isabel was about to give in (what the heck, Liz seemed like a good person), when Michael said, "No. I can't let you do that. If you do, consider our friendship over. It would be too dangerous for me to stick around and you know it."

Max took a deep breath and Isabel shuddered with the implications of it. With his eyes to the floor, Max asked weakly for her verdict, "Iz?"

She looked first at Michael standing like a hard statue with his arms folded across his chest and second down at her brother who looked like a sad toy that had been rejected by its owner and carelessly thrown into a corner. Holding Max's eyes, she whispered, as tears escaped her eyes, "I'm sorry."

Max nodded and lowered his head into the hiding space of his arms again. But even though his voice was low, it was clearly heard across the apartment, "Get out."

"Max," Isabel whispered regretfully, reaching for him.

He snapped his head up and ground out, "Get out. Both of you."

"Come on, Isabel," Michael said, reaching out a hand for her.

Isabel took one last look at the broken version of her strong brother before turning and leaving the apartment with Michael.

* * *

_Tess_

But Max wasn't left completely alone. Tess shut the lid of her laptop in contemplation.

"Maybe I should pay Max a visit," she said to herself.


	25. Chapter 24

**CHAPTER 24**  
_Liz_

It was getting close to five p.m. as there was a knock on Liz's office door.

"Yes?"

After the initial uncomfortable encounter with David Perkins that same morning, the day had elapsed seemingly without drama. Unbeknownst to Elizabeth Parker, her faith had been discussed by three individuals of alien descent as she had tried to get through the day without thinking too much about David's presence or the fight (or whatever you would call it) she'd had with Max.

Her boss must have said something to David though, because Liz didn't have to work with David for the remainder of that day. Instead, she'd been assigned a quiet guy by the name of James, whose silence unfortunately had left Liz with way too much time to analyze the 'relationship' between her and David.

Her thoughts had also had several opportunities to ponder the date the night before and the man that was currently standing in the doorway to her office.

"Max," she stated quietly and felt a complex feeling of regret, sadness, joy and disappointment run through her. "Now is really not a good time."

He looked out of place, taking a hesitant and stiff step into her office.

"Liz, please," he said and Liz felt heat rise in her body. The dark pleading timber of his voice did things to her that no man's voice had ever done. She was taken back by her own body's response and let her eyes drop to the desk.

She couldn't look at him. If she did, she would give in to whatever he was here to ask of her. "I can't do this right now, Max. I'm working."

"I know," he said apologetically and Liz looked up only to notice that his tanned skin looked visibly pale. There were haunting shadows in his eyes and she fisted her hands under the table to stop herself from asking him if he was alright.

Instead, Max continued, "But I have to explain myself."

There was so many things she wanted him to tell her, but she had a feeling that his 'explanation' wouldn't be the most truthful one. She had a feeling deep in the center of her gut that Max was carrying a large secret, maybe even a dangerous secret, and that it somehow bound them together. But she couldn't deal with it now. Not here. Not today. David Perkins had put her emotions out of balance and she couldn't let yet another man take advantage of her.

_Max is not 'yet another man',_ her traitorous inner voice whispered, but she harshly hushed it. She couldn't get involved with someone that wasn't honest. Not when her life was already in a turmoil due to getting her first job, her nightmares starting up again and the waves of pure ice-cold evil she was getting from David.

"It's just too weird," she got out and tried to look busy by arranging her papers. The air seemed to shiver with warm tension as she noticed him, out of the corner of her eye, take a step closer to her desk.

"There's things I can tell you. But not yet." His soft voice cut through her like a knife.

She barely knew Max Evans, but the idea that he couldn't trust her with his secret was more painful to her than any other 'betrayal' she'd experienced in prior relationships. She met his eyes and felt the hurt burn through her throat. "Then why are you here?"

Her eyes swept across his dark hair (unusually out of place on this day), the look of cold desperation in his eyes, the pleading set of his lips (how would those lips feel against hers?) and the tortured stance of his body. He was muscled, his casual clothes couldn't hide that, and it was a fact she realized just then as his masculine physique contrasted with the vulnerability in his movements. A shiver of longing raced through her; an intruding emotion that she quickly squashed.

The hurt bubbled up to the surface yet again. She couldn't understand why he couldn't just tell her. She had already laid her heart out to him by telling him that she imagined herself _feeling_ what he felt. He obviously hadn't deemed her insane or he wouldn't be standing in front of her now.

"Do you really think that I have an explanation for why you seem to be able to feel what I feel?"

It was like he had hit her. She felt herself harden. How dared he talk down about something she was sure he was feeling too? So she answered in the only way she could. "Yes."

He looked uneasy. "Why do you think I have more information than you?"

_Was he serious?_ She blinked back hot tears; in limbo between crying and laughing. She stomped down on both those emotions Hard. And settled for a shrug. "Just a feeling."

She watched Max look out her big office window and noticed, alongside Max, that the day had turned into evening.

She watched his profile harden, the muscles of his jaw tensing. "Liz, it's important that you don't leave work alone tonight."

Liz stilled and her thoughts erratically sought out the morning incident with her colleague. The icy feeling of being trapped and hunted that morning revisited her at his warning. Her question came out in a breathy, shell-shocked manner, "What?" Did he know about David? What had happened?

Max looked worried and he took another step towards her desk, his eyes burning into her soul. There was a certain urgency about his body language, like he wanted to say so much more. Or as if he wanted to pick her up and physically take her out of there.

_What do you know that I don't, Max Evans?_

"Just take my word for it, okay? I can't explain right now, but you're in danger." His voice was level, but she could hear the waver, the tension that he was trying to hide.

She could feel the adrenaline from the morning hours return, fueling the chill, and wondered about the deep fear for her well-being that was coursing through her. Was it from her or from him?

"You better tell me right now…" Liz noticed that he swayed on his spot and she reflexively made a movement to get out of her chair to stop him from falling, but he stilled, his face as white as a sheet.

He took a deep breath and mumbled, "It's repeating itself, word by word."

Liz frowned, her hand frozen in a reached out position between them. "What?" Was it possible, that the more she spoke to this man, the more confused she got?

Max looked up and his troubled eyes looked almost golden. "I can't tell you. It's not only up to me."

_No, Max,_ Liz thought. _This_ is _up to you. You just don't want to deal with it._

Frustrated, she bit back the fearful memory of her morning interaction with Mr. Perkins and started to collect her papers into a pile while rising to her feet. She could feel Max's eyes following her every movement, but he remained rooted to the floor. As she started to move towards the door, the words of her frustration ran out of her, "This is ridiculous."

She was just passing Max as she felt his hand on her arm. Her breath stilled in her chest as his touch jolted her. She could feel the comfortable heat from his grip spread out from where his hand was touching her skin.

"_Please,_ Liz."

He was close. She could feel his whole being float around her, his face only inches from hers. She knew that he was looking at her, pleading her with those emotional eyes, but the hurt of not being trusted with something that they could both feel made her say, "Don't touch me," even though she didn't want him to remove his hand. She wanted him to stop her. To tell her why she was so instinctively attracted to him? Why she wanted to crawl inside of him and be protected by his warmth?

"Liz…"

The way he said her name… There was a small hitch in his voice that almost broke her.

_Just let him get to know you first and he'll start to trust you._

She shook her head to clear it from the traitorous thoughts. No. She had been hurt by secrets before. She needed to protect herself first and foremost.

"Max," she interrupted before he could say anything else that might further affect her decisions. "Without an explanation, your 'warning' mostly sounds like a threat. I barely know you, what if _you're_ the danger?" Which was a valid question, but it felt like a lie. There was no way in hell that Max Evans was a danger to her. The knowledge he was controlling on the other hand, was a different matter.

He looked hurt, his hand burning against her upper arm, and Liz tried to bury her instinct to apologize. But even worse was the coldness that rocked her soul as he removed his hand from her arm.

Max shook his head, looking lost. "I'm not."

She pressed the pile of papers protectively against her chest, wanting to ward off the chill. _Just tell me why I feel this way, Max. Just tell me._

But the words that came out of her mouth were generic, trying every way to get him to talk to her. After all, if he knew that she was in danger, wouldn't it be better if she knew all the facts so that she could protect herself? "I don't appreciate being lied to, especially not about something that…something that might jeopardize my life as you so clearly want to warn me about. If my life were in danger, isn't that reason enough to tell my _why_ that is?"

He took a step closer to her and whispered, "I'm not allowed to say. You have to trust me."

_Trust_ you? _When you won't trust me?_ She felt the conflicting emotions tear at her and couldn't stop a hot tear from rolling down her cheek as she whispered, "I'm sorry, Max."

She turned to pull the door open, but Max grabbed her free hand, stepping close to her. He leaned his forehead against hers and she felt faint. His grip on her hand was strong, almost painfully so, as he looked down into her eyes. She had the strongest sense of déjà vu, but that something had changed.

"Don't be alone tonight, _please._" His breath fluttered against her face. He smelled of night with a tad of lemon. She fought to not close her eyes, revel in his presence. "Could you call someone to follow you home? Would you do this one thing for me? Just trust me."

The world was blurring around her, around _them_, and it was as if it was only the two of them in this universe. She wanted to get closer, wanted _him_ to follow her home. But her pride, her hurt, her disappointment stepped in between and she forced herself to pull her hand away while taking a step back. "Okay. I'll find someone."

He looked relieved, but still worried. Without letting go of her eyes, he said forcibly, "Promise me."

His forcefulness surprised her and she couldn't help but nod. "I promise."

"Thank you," he whispered.

Taken with the situation, she fumbled with the door knob before managing to get the door open and get out into the corridor. She didn't dare to look back, afraid that she wouldn't be able to leave. Instead she put her pile of papers down on a desk nearby and got her cell phone out. Now, apparently, she needed to find someone to walk her home.

* * *

_Max_

He had every intention of following Liz home. From a distance. He _knew_ that it was happening tonight, so even if she managed to find someone to keep her company he was not going to let her out of his sight tonight. Even though the conversation with her just now had run its own course, he _had_ been able to change some things. This gave him hope that the future wasn't set in stone; he could still prevent Liz from getting hurt. He watched her down the hall, talking on the phone (good, she's keeping her promise), as he got out of her office and closed the door behind him.

As he turned around to leave, he came face to face with a short blonde girl and froze.

She smiled up at him innocently and stated with self-confidence, "Max Evans."

She was the girl from his dreams. The blonde woman who had, in his dream scenario, claimed to be his wife.

"Who are you?" he said, relieved to hear that his voice held nothing of the shock and confusion that he was feeling at the moment.

She continued smiling at him, an expression that was making him uncomfortable. "You don't know me, but I know you."

"And you would be…?"

She offered her hand. "Tess Harding."

* * *

_Liz_

"I'm sorry, Liz. It's Gramps' 95th birthday party."

"It's okay, Alex. I'll be alright. I just thought it would be nice with some company on the walk home."

"I would cancel if-"

"Don't, Alex. Say 'hi' to Gramps for me, okay?"

Alex sounded regretful. "I will. Are you sure, Liz?"

Liz nodded into the phone, even though he couldn't see her. "Of course. Talk to you later."

"Sure. Bye."

Liz disconnected the phone and glanced around the office, feeling rattled. _You promised._

Isabel hadn't answered her phone. Liz wasn't really the social butterfly so her contacts mostly stopped there. She scrolled down to 'Max Evans' in her phone contacts. She could ask him to walk with her. After all,_he_ had been the one wanting her to have company tonight.

She sighed with frustration. "Max Evans has freaked you out," she mumbled to herself. "There's nothing dangerous out there. I've walked this way alone plenty of times."

She pressed the button to the elevators and balled her fists tightly up against her sides. She was getting angry that she had let Max work her up. Now she was _anticipating_ something to happen, because the truth was she _did_ trust him. She trusted that Max knew that something was up. But if she looked at this rationally; how could he possibly know?

_But why would he want to scare you? What would he get out of that?_

* * *

_Max_

He shook the blonde's small hand, watching her closely. It was eerie. How could he, within the same month, meet both women from his dreams in real life?

"Max," he offered in response to her introduction, but added, "But you already knew that."

The girl shrugged slightly, confirming his statement as mere fact. Instead, she moved on to, "Could I speak with you?"

Max shrugged. "Sure."

"Privately," she added and even though he didn't like the glint in her eyes, he was intrigued. Maybe he would get some answers.

He looked around himself for a 'private' room and knowing that Liz had left her office, Max reopened the door to her office and gestured inside. Neither Tess nor Max noticed that their motion to pull away to more 'private' surroundings was being seen by Tess' ex-whatever. David Perkins' eyes darkened in jealousy as he watched the woman he had enjoyed quite good sex with, step into Elizabeth Parker's office with the man who had been glued to Liz's side at the office party. A scenario that was going to fuel Mr. Perkins' dangerous feelings and set him out on a hunt that very same night. Simultaneously as David looked to his right and saw Liz step into the elevator, alone, Tess closed the door behind her and Max.

* * *

_Liz_

She pocketed her phone as she stepped into the elevator, feeling irritation fuel her. She didn't need Max Evans to tell her what to do. Especially not if he couldn't be honest with her. Her frustration had only increased during the elevator ride downstairs and her steps were hard and irritated against the tiled floor as she crossed the lobby and stepped outside. Looking down the empty street, which she had walked several time, she felt a shiver run down her spine. She inhaled deeply and cursed Max for scaring her, before she commenced her walk home.

Her steps were fast as she walked down the street and it didn't take her long to walk off her frustration. At that point, the distance to her apartment was getting shorter by the minute. She started to relax. She would be home soon.

But in correlation with her feeling at ease, she heard foot steps behind her. At first, she tried to ignore it (after all, the street was made for more people than just her), but as it got closer and effectively slowed down a couple of feet behind her, she started to get nervous. To see if the person was really following her, she took some detours through alleys to see if the person kept on following her. Her heart started to beat erratically, her palms broke out in cold sweat, as her stalker followed her every illogical deviation. That's when she started to run.

She was looking around herself, trying to find someone that could help her, as she took a moment to curse the high heels she was wearing. Her stalker certainly wasn't wearing high heels, the steps hard and even. It sounded like a man. A large man.

* * *

_Max_

"How do you know me?" Max asked once they were alone.

"I think we share a similar past," Tess answered.

_She knows,_ a voice warned him and Max took a step back from the girl. There was something he didn't trust about the woman. It was distinctly different from his first meeting with the other girl from his dreams.

"Really?" he asked, pretending to be indifferent.

"Actually, it's more similar to your friend Michael Guerin's past."

He was about to answer but got distracted by the girl closing her eyes. "What are yo-"

He felt her then. Inside his head. He felt her rummaging through his thoughts as if someone would sift through paper.

Intuitively, he blocked the paths to his thoughts, to his mind. He didn't know how to, having never done it before, but apparently blocking her invasive power came naturally.

Her eyes flung open and her assertive persona was for once temporarily erased. "How did you do that?"

Max was looking at her angrily. "I'd like to ask you the same question."

"No one's been able to resist me before."

_I bet,_ Max thought tersely.

She recuperated quickly, the curtain of self-confidence slamming down in front of her face. "It's one of my powers."

He should have been surprised. The girl was probably expecting shock. But he was distracted by the sound of steps behind him. He turned around, but only came upon the empty office. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Fear was starting to creep through him and he couldn't understand why. This woman didn't scare him. He turned his attention back to her. She was staring at him as if _he_ had been the crazy one just talking about powers and not the other way around.

* * *

_Maria_

"What do you think it means?" Maria asked.

She watched Isabel trace the letters with her finger. Maria had copied the letters from the photo in Michael's cell phone onto big sheets of paper. Isabel was now sitting cross-legged at the lower point of that paper, trying to make sense of it.

"It reminds me of Chinese," Isabel mused.

"How's that?" Michael asked from the corner of the makeshift collage and Maria watched her boyfriend inch closer to the replicated language.

Isabel pointed out a letter with two straight vertical lines which were joined at the top by a solid horizontal line. "Like this one… It kinda looks like a house."

"Home," Maria mused.

Isabel looked up at her, a look of excitement in her eyes. "Exactly."

"So you mean that each letter is like a word, like it is in the Chinese language?" Michael questioned.

Isabel nodded, looking to her friend for confirmation. "Or what do you think?"

Michael nodded slowly. "Sounds reasonable."

Maria looked closer at the script before pointing to the letter Isabel had pointed out earlier. "I think that _is_'home'."

She felt Michael looking at her out of the corner of her eye. She could practically feel his dubiousness. "Ria, what makes you think that alien homes look the same as ours?"

She turned to him and squinted at him. "Don't be condescending, Mikey G."

"Don't call m-" Michael started to object, but Maria wasn't done.

"Everyone needs shelter by putting something above their heads, probably even aliens, so why not? Why would they not have the same _simplified_ symbol for it?"

Isabel nodded. "I think she's right, Michael."

Michael bit his lip stubbornly, but Maria knew that he had seen her logic. He just didn't want to admit to being wrong. "Whatever."

"Then we just have to figure out what the other letters symbolizes," Isabel said.

Maria sank down next to Isabel, pointing out a swirly symbol, which looked like a helix seen in cross-section. "Maybe that's the solar system."

"Or maybe it's boiling water," Michael said grumpily.

Maria glared at him. Now he was just being obstinate. "Or maybe-"

"We should write down all the alternatives below the sign," Isabel interrupted. "Hopefully it'll make sense later."

"Sounds like a good idea," Maria agreed.

"Yeah," Michael agreed sourly and sat down next to Maria. To her surprise, he took her hand in his while he pointed to the next symbol. "What about that one? Meteor?"

Maria looked at his profile and smiled. He sure was one complex individual.

* * *

_Liz_

The first outward signs of her fear was when she screamed, hoping that someone would be outdoors that evening. _Someone_ had to hear her. "Help! Please! Someone help me!"

But there was no one on the less trafficked route to her home. She saw an alley up ahead and turned into that one, hoping that it would present an opportunity for her to hide or for someone to hear her. But it was a dead end. She came to a stop in front of the unyielding brick wall.

"No," she whispered and turned around to see the shape of her follower slow down and walk towards her. Her follower knew, just like she did, that she had nowhere to go. She was trapped.

* * *

_Max_

"Your powers?" Max asked, pushing the right amount of ridicule and disbelief into his question.

She looked annoyed. "Cut the crap, Max. I'm the same as you. As you, Isabel and Michael."

The fear gradually escalated in him and confused his own feelings of weariness. He shook his head again, trying to clear it. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She was looking at him funny, trying to gauge his responses, and he was not giving her the appropriate ones. "Of course you do. The crash in Roswell. The cave. Wandering around the desert with amnesia."

The footsteps were getting closer again, echoing off the walls as if he was standing in a space between buildings. The air was getting more humid, colder.

"You mean the weather balloon that fell?"

She made a grimace. "Don't play coy with me, Max." She proceeded to raise her hand and shot an electrical current through a close-by chair, causing it to explode into millions of tiny pieces. She looked proud as Max jumped. "Now? Do you believe me now?"

* * *

_Liz_

"Ms. Parker," a familiar voice said, breathing hard from the run, and she felt herself shrink back into the bricked wall that was blocking her escape. "Why are you running?"

She felt the rough surface of the bricks against her palms as he walked into the light of a small lamp over a closed door. Maybe this was a good thing, she tried to reason with herself. Since she knew him, she could reason with him. But she had a feeling that David Perkins was not the reasonable guy. He was not the person you'd want to meet in an abandoned dark alley.

"Just let me be," Liz said, making her voice calm and attempting reasoning.

There was a smile across his lips (more like a sneer) as he stepped back into the shadows just before reaching her.

"I haven't done anything to you," Liz tried.

He raised his right eyebrow in question. "No?"

"Be reasonable about this, David. I mean," she tried to laugh, it came out as a croak, "we work together. You know me."

"You're talking as if I'm here to hurt you," David said, pondering, and his eyes traveled down her body. Slowly. Liz felt so much like the prey of a lion that she wouldn't have been surprised if his devouring look had been accompanied by him licking his lips in anticipation of a meal.

Liz shivered, a fist of icy fear squeezing her heart. "Aren't you?" Liz asked.

"It doesn't have to hurt," David said quietly, stopping a feet from her. "How about you lie down on the ground, Ms. Parker?"

A tear of fear rolled down her cheek and she shook her head. "No."

His face softened and he looked at her as if she was a child that was too young to understand the consequences. And he would have to teach her. "Get. Down. On. The. Ground. Ms. Parker."

She gathered everything she had and threw herself to the side, trying to sidestep him and run. But he was faster. Catching her by the waist he got her down on the hard ground with one strong shove. She felt her arm scrape against the rough concrete at the impact.

* * *

_Max_

Max was about to answer Tess as he felt the superficial layers of the skin of his right arm, just below the elbow, open up in abrasions. He lifted his arm in surprise, causing Tess to witness the damage being done, seemingly by its own force, to his arm.

"What the fuck?" Tess whispered.

His lungs were starting to burn and his body was reflexively increasing his breathing rate.

"What's happening?" Tess continued, taking a step back. Suddenly she wasn't the spectacular one. Max Evans, with a bleeding abrasion on his underarm and his head being forced to the side (as if someone had just hit him), was stealing the show.

* * *

_Liz_

She tried to get her legs underneath her, trying to get out of being at a disadvantage, but he was already there, pushing her upper body backwards so that she hit the back of her head hard as she was pushed into a horizontal position. She rolled and struggled, but was shocked as pain exploded across her cheek as he hit her.

She tasted the metallic tinge of blood in her mouth and felt remnants of it sip down the side of her mouth as he straddled her. She could feel how turned on he was about all of this, which deepened her fear. He wasn't just going to punish her, he was going to rape her. He gripped her forearms at the wrists, pressing them down into the ground and trapping her underneath him.

* * *

_Max_

"Liz," Max murmured as he tasted blood in his mouth. "She's in danger."

How had she already left? Not more than ten minutes could have passed while he was talking to Tess. She was just packing up when he left her, arranging for a ride. He felt a weight pressing down in his chest and it wasn't just due to the indirect weight of a man straddling Liz's waist, but from guilt. He had told himself to not let her out of his sight tonight and yet so he had.

Tess was staring at him. "What does that mean? What's going on?"

"I have to go," Max said tightly and almost caused Tess to fall over as he stumbled towards the door. Somehow Max was feeling everything that was happening to Liz and if his premonition had had all facts straight Liz would right now be laying on the ground, her attacker poised above her.

_I don't have much time._

* * *

_Liz_

As the adrenaline rolled over her, she attempted another approach to make him stop, "No, please. No, don't."

She barely felt the cold air hit her exposed skin as he ripped open her blouse, but it made the fear in her spike. "Pleasedon'thurtmepleasedon'thurtmepleasedon'thurtmepleasedon'thurtme."

But her pleading only ignited him more and she suffered another blow to the face. She felt bones crack in her nose.

"You're not so full of yourself now, are you Ms. Parker?"

"David, please," she whispered.

He paused and looked at her darkly. His voice was devoid of any emotion as he ground out, "Don't call me that."

Spotting an opportunity to reason with him, Liz continued, "This is not you, David. You're hurting me."

He smirked and gathered both of her hands in an iron grip of his left hand before he started working on her jeans with his freed up right. "Are you sure about that?"

She closed her eyes. She couldn't reach him. She had always known, from the second that she met him, that he was dangerous. But she had never imagined herself ending up in this situation.

His left hand let go of her arms to figure out her pants and she took the opportunity to heave her upper body up and then wiggle to try and get out of his grip. As her hands got out of his hold, she immediately clawed at his face, thinking along the lines of how to survive a rape. _Put your fingers into the perpetrator's eyes._

But she never had a chance to come close enough to cause any real damage. He abandoned fighting with her jeans and put both of his hands around her neck and squeezed. She angled her head backwards, straightening her windpipe, trying to get air into her lungs, but he only pressed harder as he brought his face closer to hers. His face was unforgiving in the background of dancing black spots as he pressed hot lips against her mouth, biting her bottom lip so that he drew blood. But she barely noticed the pain. She was slipping away.

About three seconds before she lost consciousness, he let go. She inhaled sharply, her head lolling to the side in oxygen deprivation and exhaustion. David was now pulling down her jeans, but she didn't notice. She was trying to get enough air into her oxygen-starved body. He might have been talking to her then, but she only registered grunts as her body was pulled in this and that direction, forcibly but unable to defend itself. She didn't hear her panties rip, but she felt him there, touching her invasively and roughly.

Then he wasn't there anymore. She briefly noticed a green light around her before Max was there, above her. He was talking to her, she could see his lips moving, but she had trouble hearing him. She felt the heat of his fingers as he skimmed her cold face, brushing down her body, concern vibrating off him. She noted that he had a bruise across his left cheek, matching the pain she was feeling in her own left cheek.

"Max," she croaked, worried as he momentarily disappeared from her field of vision.

"Liz," he said urgently and she could see him again. He had removed his jacket and was draping it over her. "I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?"

"David?" She felt the fear ascending again, the momentary daze from the almost successful strangling gradually wearing off.

"It's okay. He's…out," Max said and his words washed over her like soothing water and she felt the dam break.

"Help me," Liz sobbed, managing to lift her arms up towards Max.

Without hesitation, he directed her arms around his neck and pulled her up on his lap. Her bare legs fell down on either side of his thighs as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. She felt the hard pulse from his jugular vein throb against her cheek and her arms tightened around him.

"You're safe now," Max whispered. "You're safe now."

She cried, pressing herself into the crook of his neck, trying to bring herself closer while her whole body was shaking. He stood up with her gingerly, her legs still around his waist, keeping his jacket pressed between their bodies. Under the jacket, she was exposed from the waist down, but she didn't care. Max was here. She was safe.


	26. Chapter 25

**CHAPTER 25**  
_Maria_

"Couldn't stay mad at me forever, could you Max?" That was Michael's greeting as he picked up on his ringing cell phone.

Maria absent-mindedly watched her boyfriend's profile as her attention mostly was occupied by the puzzle of foreign symbols that she was working on with Isabel on the floor.

"Right now?"

Maria's attention was sharpened in the direction of Michael as his voice rapidly changed from arrogant to irked. She leaned closer to him and whispered loudly, "What's wrong?"

Michael batted at her as if she was an annoying house fly and continued, "Because I'm right in the middle of someth-"

His narration was interrupted by Max's reply, unknown to Maria, on the other side of the line.

"I presume you're coming there too? Or what should I tell the police when I dump this guy off?"

The word 'police' caught Isabel's attention and she leaned over Maria, trying to get closer to Michael. "What happened?"

Michael sighed and got up from his seated position (to get away from the curious girls), a scowl draped across his facial features.

"And did you do that?" Michael continued while the girls followed his pacing of the floor like hawks. There was a short pause before Michael's voice suddenly turned stressed. "No, Max. Max? You have to…"

Michael removed the phone from his ear, looked at it and roared "Fuck!" loud enough to make his company of two jump.

"What's happening?" Isabel asked at the same time as Maria asked, "What is Max doing with the police?"

Michael's face was a barely contained volcano of emotions. Maria had seen that chaotic combination of feelings a couple of times, interestingly enough usually when he'd been fighting with a certain male alien friend. Maria got up from her seat as Michael turned to get his jacket without offering any information about his previous exchange with his alien could-as-well-be brother.

"Michael. Michael. Michael."

He barely looked at her as he mumbled, "Not now, Ria."

"Where are you going?" Isabel asked, getting to her feet. "Has something happened to Max?"

"Max is fine," Michael grumbled. "But I have to clean up his mess."

"His mess..? What..?"

But Michael didn't acknowledge her question marks, almost slamming the door in her face as she was tracking his departure from the apartment. With the closed door about an inch from her nose, Maria slowly turned to Isabel with a shocked expression.

"I'm calling Max," Isabel said, already scrolling through the contact list in her phone.

Maria was at the moment too stunned to be angry with Michael (and too worried that something might be up with Max), but as she observed Isabel (Max was not picking up his phone) Maria slowly felt her anger ignite and catch. Unfortunately, it was her generic reaction to most things that scared or upset her.

"How difficult is it to let us know what he said?" Maria bit out.

Isabel gave her a warning look that definitely said 'We don't have time for that right now, Maria', before stating, "He's not picking up", and hanging up the phone.

"Instead," Maria could feel it boiling inside of her. The need to hit something was escalating. "Instead we have to be prepared for the worst, because he can't be a normal person and answer our questions. How long would it take him anyway? He could probably summarize it in two sentences-"

"Maria," Isabel warned.

"No, Isabel. I'm fucking pissed right now."

"I get that," Isabel said calmly. "But if you think about it, Michael was also pissed. Not worried. If something had happened to Max, would he had been able to make a phone call?"

Isabel's words made sense. As long as it wasn't the 'You get one free phone call' from jail that Max had just utilized.

"Let's go to Max's apartment instead, see if he's there," Isabel suggested.

Maria shrugged. Sure. What other option was there?

Isabel gave her a faint smile and took Maria by the elbow. "Come on."

* * *

_Max_

He was certain that she had noticed the crumbled figure to the side of the alley, but she either didn't want to see or she was too worked up to register.

He had helped her get her jeans back on. She had wanted to stay close to him, not appearing too fussed about that she was practically naked in front of him. He had presumed the feeling of modesty to be very far down on her list of priorities right now, but he had still looked away the best he could to try and shelter her privacy.

Liz had stopped crying in the process of getting dressed and her movements had taken on an air of automation. She had appeared vacant, but her grip on his hand had been very present and had made dressing a bit more cumbersome. But she had refused to let go.

She'd been shaking the whole way to his apartment and he had held her close to the side of his body trying to keep her warm and preventing her from going into shock. The closeness of her body calmed his own, preventing him from going back and beating Liz's attacker to a bloody pulp. He told himself that she needed his presence and comfort more than the man needed his anger. Max had never considered himself a violent man, but something raw and instinctual had drowned him in hot wrath when he had seen the man forcing himself on Liz.

His powers had shot out of him and thrown Liz's attacker of her. He had hit the wall with a worrying thump, his body crumbling to the ground like a rag doll. Max hadn't gone over to check if the perpetrator had survived Max's rage, the anger quickly dissipating in the face of fear for Liz.

He locked the door behind them and paused to look at her back. She was alive, but traumatized. He had gotten to her in time, before she was killed, but he had still been too late. He had been distracted by Tess Harding doing her mind trick on him. But it wasn't enough of an excuse. He had promised himself to keep her safe and she had almost been strangled while her work colleague had attempted to rape her.

Still attached to her by the hand, Max guided her into his bathroom. He switched on the lights and turned on the faucet in the bathtub.

"Let's get you warm, okay," Max said, glancing back at her. _And clean._ He could only imagine the thoughts racing through her head, even though her mind appeared blank at the moment.

After adjusting the water temperature, Max left the faucet to continue its job of filling up the tub while he got to stand in front of Liz. She was looking up at him and she appeared present, although dazed.

"You might be going into shock…" he mumbled and cradled her cheek with his free hand. Her skin was discolored, various degrees of red and purple already tainting it. He bit back the bile rising in his throat and swallowed down the burning anger that was struggling to take control. Liz's eyes drifted closed at the contact and she brought her hand up to fold around the back of his. The coolness of her palm against the back of his hand momentarily cooled his dark thoughts. A lonesome tear trickled down her cheek, pooling against the side of Max's palm.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"No," his voice was strained as he shook his head, his reply causing her to open her eyes to look at him in confusion. "I should've been there earlier. I should've told you the truth. Stopped it from happening."

"This was David's doing," Liz said, her lips a nuance of blue, a sheen of dried sweat on her forehead.

"But I _knew_ it was going to happen," Max objected before he could stop himself.

"Yes," she nodded, now very present and meeting his eyes straight on. "How did you know that?"

"I saw it," Max answered, trying to be as evasive as he could, but at the same time he knew that it was no use. He had to tell her now. "I had a…vision of it happening."

She nodded slowly and moved the hand she had kept on top of his to instead cradle his cheek. He paused at the feel of her touch. So soft.

"Your cheek?" she whispered, accepting his statement with such ease that the next step in the conversation came immediately. "Did he hit you?"

Max hesitated, before shaking his head. "No. Not directly."

She frowned, but he tugged on the hand that hadn't loosened its grip on his and guided them up to the mirror. He positioned them next to each other and he watched her reflection as she figured it out, as she compared the injuries. The uncanny position and size of the bruise over their left cheeks, the swelling to their broken noses, the abrasions to their skin.

"How is this possible?" she breathed.

"Watch me," Max whispered, directing her eyes to his reflection.

With a well-practiced movement, he placed his hand over his nose. There was a bright white light underneath his palm (Liz gasped and looked to her left at Max, foregoing the reflection, imagining that she was feeling a tingling in her own nose) for approximately six seconds before Max removed his hand and turned to face Liz.

She was scared. He could see it in her eyes. But now wasn't the time to run. He had made the decision to be truthful, so he had no choice but to see this through.

Tentative fingers gently prodded up the back of his nose. "You fixed it?" she whispered.

Max nodded. "Do you trust me?"

This time, there was no question, no hesitation. But there was an element of caution in her eyes as she nodded. He gently placed his hand over her nose and decreased the worst of the swelling and diminished the pain.

"I can't fix you completely," Max said regretfully. "The police have to see what that bastard did, or it'll be your word against his."

"You can heal," she whispered slowly, her eyes large and unblinking, not appearing to hear what he had just said.

Max nodded and cradled her injured cheek in his palm and calmed the inflammation, which had made the bruise throb. She grew still under his ministrations, turning numinous. As if she was afraid that she would disturb what he was doing if she moved. He spread heat with his touch against the abrasions, diminishing but not erasing, all the time holding her gaze. He wanted to be able to read in her eyes if she got scared; if he needed to stop.

"It wasn't my mom's blood on my body that day was it?" she asked as his hand touched the last cut on her wrist.

"You were dead," Max said softly, almost inaudible, and his hand tightened around hers. _And you almost died again today._

"You brought me back," Liz stated, as if it was as certain as the color of the sky.

"Yes."

"Is that why…why I can feel you? Why you got hurt when I was hurt?"

"I don't know how this works. It's all new to me too. But yes, I think it's because I healed you. I've never felt that with anyone else." He watched her as she tried to take this in.

She frowned, her confused eyes large in her drawn face. "Why didn't you want me to know this? You have amazing abilities, Max. You could do some really great things in the world."

He almost laughed, but it stumbled in his throat. "No." He shook his head. "No."

She looked down at their hands, linked together, and murmured, "I don't understand why you'd want to keep this hidden."

"Because I'm not human."

There. He said it.

She froze for a couple of seconds and he could feel her start to tug her hand free. Coldness gripped at him, but just before she let go of his hand, she looked up. There was no fear in her eyes, only confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I was born in some incubation chamber in the middle of the New Mexican desert," Max said. He wasn't prepared for this conversation. How did you prepare yourself for this? It had been different when he'd told Maria. They'd been kids. Kids had, by default, a more open mind. A lot more hung in the balance now.

"Incubation chamber?"

"I don't know how I got there," Max continued, talking faster now. He needed to get this out before she ran. "Or why I was placed there. But I very quickly realized that I wasn't like other kids. I didn't have any memories of my time before the incubation chamber and it didn't take me long to realize that I had been able to heal you that day. Even though it wasn't a deliberate act. There are more things I can do, but-"

"But you look human," Liz interrupted. "How do you know you're…not?"

"Call it a hunch," Max said sheepishly. They had actually never gotten it in black on white that they were aliens, but had figured that they must be a mix or something. "It kinda fits with the crash in Roswell in 1947. The presumed alien crash. I must've been it."

"But why?"

He could see the information spinning around in Liz. On top of what had happened not one hour ago, this was becoming too much for her to take in.

"I'm not dangerous," Max said, gently pulling her hand back more snugly into his. "That's the most important part. And I see myself as human, with special effects. That's what you need to know for the moment." He glanced back at the tub that was almost filled up. "But I need you to take a bath right now. You need to get warm. I'll answer your questions later, I promise."

Speechless, Liz nodded.

"You'll be okay?"

She was standing so still he couldn't help but wonder if she was going to collapse once he left the room. She nodded again.

"Okay," he whispered and hesitated before leaning forward and pressing his lips to her forehead. He had to struggle not to linger, not to let his lips taste more of her skin. She had her eyes closed as he pulled back to look down at her. He leaned his forehead against hers and felt her hand come to life in his, returning his gentle squeeze. "I'll be right outside if you need me. There's towels in the cabinet over there."

She nodded again and opened her eyes. Long seconds passed before she let go of his hand and with a regretful look, he left her alone.


	27. Chapter 26

**CHAPTER 26**  
_Liz_

_Not human? Alien?_

She shook her head as she absent-mindedly stripped down to nothing. The water was just right as she climbed into it and let it enclose every inch of her traumatized body. Her head felt like it might explode. There were so many questions that needed answers, so many that she had momentarily forgotten the horrific event she had just experienced.

Isabel had said that they had found her and her brother as children, wandering around. Max had only referred to himself as he was giving her answers earlier, but Liz was pretty sure that there were more like him. His sister being one.

The most mind-blowing detail was that she had been brought back to life by this man. He had given her a life that otherwise would have ended before it barely had a chance to start. In addition, a connection that Max himself didn't seem to understand had been evolved and forged between them. A connection that enabled them to share emotions and, as was evident from today's events, even physical afflictions.

The thought brought her back to what had happened earlier, to David's hands around her neck cutting off her air supply, the violence and him forcing himself on her. There was now no doubt in her mind that David would have gone the whole way through with it.

Fueled by anger and God knows what, he had been intent on raping her and maybe even killing her (intentionally or not), not necessarily in that order.

What had Max done to David?

She had registered that David had been lying inert to the side of the alley, several feet from where she had been, as if he had been flung a great distance.

She started scrubbing down her skin, wanting to get her enforcer's smell off her. Her skin objected to the forceful scrub, reddening from the assault, but she didn't notice.

After twenty minutes in the bath, the questions had grown monumental in her mind and the urge to see Max again was paramount. She wrapped her reddened body in a towel and looked down at her clothes on the floor. The prospect of putting them back on was making her nauseous.

Instead she walked up to the door and pushed it ajar. "Max?"

He was not far away, stepping into her field of vision after no more than three seconds. "You okay?"

He looked nervous; ready to fall apart. She nodded. "Could I borrow some clothes? Mine are…"

She left it hanging and saw him relax. Maybe it was because it hadn't been the question he had expected or maybe he was just happy about getting something to do.

"Of course," he answered. "I'll get you something."

He returned with a pair of sweatpants and a hoody with the text 'North Eastern University' across the front and gave it to her through the door. She smiled at him and closed the door between them again to change.

As she was stepping out of the bathroom, there was a knock on Max's front door. She automatically shrunk back and her first irrational thought was _He's back!_ But of course, how would David even know where Max lived?

She caught Max throwing her a glance before he walked up to the door.

Liz didn't recognize the skinny girl with tall legs next to Isabel, but for some reason she wasn't surprised to see Max's sister outside the door. Max had made a phone call from his cell while he had taken Liz to his apartment.

Had it been to his sister?

"Max," Isabel said relieved and next smacked him on the shoulder. "Why are you not picking up your phone?"

Liz saw the skinny blonde's attention drift to the inside of Max's apartment and her eyes came to a full halt when they landed on Liz. Liz shied back into the doorway. "Who's that?"

The girl's, slightly demanding, question had both Max and Isabel look in Liz's direction. The girl's eyes widened (in recognition) and she gasped, "Max, is that-?"

Liz watched Isabel's eyes grow round in surprise and her question interrupted what the strange girl was about to say, "Liz?"

Liz bit her bottom lip and answered sheepishly, "Hi, Isabel."

The skinny girl looked at Isabel and then back at Max. "It's the girl I drew… The girl… Isn't it?"

Liz saw Isabel look at Maria sharply, before Max interrupted, "Maria," and stepped to the side so that the girls could enter his apartment, "this is Liz."

The girl called Maria scoffed. "Yeah, I got that."

Then Isabel was moving through the hallway and before Liz had the chance to blink Isabel had stepped into her personal space, grabbed a hold of Liz's chin and angled her face towards the dim hallway light. "Oh my God, Liz. What happened?"

Liz tried to shake Isabel's hand away, feeling like an animal at the zoo with three sets of eyes staring at her. She felt her heart rate increase.

_Were they all aliens? _

"She was attacked," Max answered quietly and Liz got an appreciation for how Max was in a group setting. His voice was subdued, but he exuded power, a type of authority.

The blonde skinny girl didn't seem to answer to that authority though. Her emotions were vivid and very well displayed.

Through clenched teeth, she whispered loudly, "Max, what is she doing here?"

"Liz works with me," Isabel offered and to Liz's amazement neither Max nor Isabel seemed too affected by the strange girl's heated reactions. Maybe it was not something out of the ordinary.

"And what is she doing here?"

Isabel ignored the girl with the questions and focused concerned motherly eyes on Liz's face. Isabel was easily taller than Liz by a head, which made Liz feel like crumbling into herself, as a child would upon experiencing the offered comfort from its mother. "Who attacked you?"

"David," Liz answered simply.

Isabel's eyes widened, but she didn't seem too fazed with the idea. "David Perkins?"

Liz nodded.

"And he would've killed her," Max filled in, his words causing a shudder to run through Liz.

Isabel looked at Liz for a second, before saying, "Good thing my brother was close by then."

Liz felt as if Isabel was trying to gauge Liz's reaction. _Of course,_ Liz thought. _She's trying to figure out if Max has told me their secret._

Liz did her best to hide her thoughts (Could they read minds?) as she nodded.

Isabel smiled at her, the smile strained, before she let go of Liz and walked up to her brother. "Max, I need to talk to you."

"Isabel, now is not the time."

"Why is she not in the hospital?"

"She was in shock-"

"Which is a very good reason for taking her to the hospital."

Max looked pained. "I didn't want her there."

Isabel sighed and lowered her voice markedly. But Liz could still hear her say, "She's _human_. It's _normal_ for her to go the hospital after something like this. She _needs_ to, for them to be able to build a case against David."

Max looked up at Liz, horrified, and Liz realized why the second their eyes met. _She had taken a bath._ Which quite possibly had washed away important DNA and maybe even other clues.

"Do you get me now?" Isabel hissed, watching Max's face.

"Is she it, Max?" the skinny blonde called Maria cut in, looking at Liz.

Liz swallowed. _It?_

"Yeah," Max whispered.

Liz couldn't keep quiet any longer. They were, after all, three strangers standing in a circle as far away from her as they could get and whispering about her future. "What's 'it'? What is she talking about?"

Three sets of eyes turned to her again; one pair of amber eyes filled with sadness and oddly enough, regret.

"Nothing," the strange girl shrugged.

"I know that you probably lie all the time," Liz said, squaring her shoulders. "But this is possibly my life you're talking about here and I've seen and heard some pretty weird shit today, so I would at least expect to get included in your discussion."

Two sets of eyes turned to the third.

"You told her?" Isabel breathed, an elaborate mixture of fear, anguish, shock and betrayal in those mere three words.

"I told her that _I_ have abilities. That I healed her as a young and can't remember my childhood."

Liz easily picked up on the emphasis Max put on announcing that it was he alone with abilities and childhood amnesia. Isabel seemed to pick up on it as well, because she visibly relaxed. Isabel was being lulled into a false security about Max being the only abnormal one in this room.

"So why did Michael mention the police?" Maria asked.

"I needed him to take care of the attacker while I looked after Liz."

"Is he dangerous?" the girl asked frankly.

Max's face softened. "Michael'll be fine, Maria. He can handle himself."

"Liz needs to leave a statement," Isabel interjected.

"I'm quite aware of that," Max said. "Which is the reason why I didn't heal her completely."

Maria looked wearily in Liz's direction. Apparently still not used to Max speaking so freely of his powers in front of 'strangers'.

"Look," Liz said. "I won't tell anyone. You have my word. Max saved my life. Twice. The least I can do to repay him is to keep his secret."

Isabel looked at her seriously, before stepping up to her. "You might be in danger now, Liz."

Liz gave a short humorless laugh. "In more danger than before?"

Isabel shook her head, her solemnity making Liz nervous. "This is different. There are people out there that would do anything to get a hold of u-" she swallowed and corrected her almost-slip of the tongue, "of Max. And we're pretty sure that they are not the 'good guys'. By keeping this secret you _are_ paying back your debt to my brother, because his life will essentially be in your hands."

Liz might have laughed at Isabel's almost over-the-top conspiratorial account if she hadn't let her eyes flicker over the serious faces of the other two people in the room.

This was serious. Dead serious.

"Your secret's safe with me," she whispered, barely finding her voice.

"Don't scare her, Iz," Max said tiredly.

"She needs to understand the importance of knowing these things," Isabel said and took a step back, making it easier for Liz to catch her breath.

"Which is why it's important that we do this _the normal way_ and not your way," Maria said. "Which means that we should get her to the hospital to get a written account of her injuries and then contact the police to report the asshole that did that to her."

Liz had a feeling that she was going to like Maria. She had a simple frankness about her which was very refreshing in a world where just about everyone seemed to lie.

Max was at her side then, looking down at her with concerned eyes. He softly brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear and for a second she closed her eyes and forgot that they were not alone. "Are you okay leaving right now?"

She really didn't want to. She would rather crawl into her bed and hide under the covers for a couple of days or weeks. But she knew that it needed to be done if she were to be able to return to her workplace and not spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Let's get this over with."


	28. Chapter 27

**CHAPTER 27**  
_Special Agent Joel Martin_

When Special Agent Martin had put surveillance on Theresa Harding, he had simultaneously placed a lot of the people coming into close daily contact with Maxwell Evans, Michael Guerin and Isabel Evans on a watch-list. Consequently, Elizabeth Parker had made it onto that list only two days prior to being admitted to Massachusetts General Hospital due to indecent assault and battery amounting to, but failure to complete, rape.

Something that was noted back to Agent Martin through his efficient information retrieval abilities. After reading through the police report on how Max Evans evidently had come to Ms. Parker's assistance, Joel Martin was (to say the least) intrigued. He barely got around to finish reading the statement before he was on the phone, booking the next flight out of Albuquerque.

David Perkins was an interesting man.

Even though he was facing up to five years in state prison for what Elizabeth Parker was accusing him of, he was sitting opposite Joel as if he was the CEO at a board meeting. He seemed to exhale control and inhale power. But even though Special Agent Martin was young, he knew the authority his badge normally gave him and he wouldn't let Mr. Perkins change that.

"Mr. Perkins. Take me through what happened that night."

David scoffed and leaned back in the wooden chair, folding his arms in front of him. "I don't have to tell you anything without my lawyer present."

Not the least deterred, Joel continued, "If we skip forward to the point at which Max Evans showed up," Joel noted how David tensed up, his face hardening and his air of unbothered cool began to heat up, "is there anything you would like to share about that?"

David Perkins clenched his teeth and shook his head.

Joel leaned back and let out a deliberate disappointed sigh. "That's too bad…" He leaned across the table and lowered his voice for effect, "Because Max Evans has been on our radar for some time now and the government would really appreciate your assistance on perhaps bringing some new information to the table."

To his enjoyment, Joel noticed that David Perkins seemed tempted. He slowly let his arms down and leaned in towards Joel. "What's in it for me?"

"Well, Mr. Perkins. Considering the general treatment of men convicted for sexual abuse by their fellow inmates, a man in your position might be very interested in getting their penalty significantly reduced."

David was quiet for a long time, probably seriously pondering if he should go against his lawyer's recommendation or not. He looked at the agent suspiciously. "Why is the Bureau so interested in this Evans guy?"

"Sorry," Joel said lightly and shrugged. "Classified."

"Hmph," David said, not happy. "I just want to know that you'll take me seriously."

Agent Martin's interest was instantly piqued. No reason to say something like that if you didn't have a disbelieving tale to tell. "Of course I will, Mr. Perkins."

David Perkins returned to his state of ponder for another minute, before he said, "There was this green light."

Joel straightened. "Go on, Mr. Perkins."

For the first time since Joel had met this man, Elizabeth Parker's abuser appeared nervous. "It was a green light between her and me. Like a… This is going to sound stupid-"

"Go on," Joel encouraged, not letting on how excited he was getting.

"It was… like in a movie, like an outer space movie with force fields and that shit. It was just like that. And it hurt. Like it was electricity."

"And it suddenly appeared between you and Ms. Parker?"

David nodded. "Yeah. It probably all happened very fast, but I had time to look to my left and then I saw this guy… Evans to you," Joel nodded in affirmation, "with his hand held out in our direction and he looked like he was concentrating on something. I don't remember much more after that. I think that green thing threw me off or something."

"Threw you off?"

"More like flung me up against the wall like some rag doll."

"And Evans didn't touch you?"

"No," David shook his head. "Just before the lights went out I still saw him standing at that same spot, several feet from where I was lying."

"Hmm," Joel mused, leaning back in his chair.

"You think it's stupid," David sighed.

"What's your conclusion of what happened, Mr. Perkins? You must've put quite some thought into this bizarre incident."

David hesitated, but when he couldn't see any sign of the agent making fun of him, he said, "In retrospect, I'm almost 99% sure it was Evans that produced that green light. I mean, there was no one else there. And I don't think Liz did it. She was mostly out of it by then."

Joel felt goosebumps spread at the back of his head when this man so casually discussed the state of unconsciousness of his abuse victim.

"And I think that the green light must've been an electrical field, like a force field, that was able to throw me across a fucking long stretch."

Joel nodded, contemplating this. It sure was an interesting tale and he could understand why the man was reluctant to tell it. His mental status might be in question. "Is that all?"

David nodded. "Except for this abusive dude waking me up and basically dragging me to the police afterwards."

"Ah," Joel said, looking through his papers. Of course. Another one on the VIP-list. _Michael Guerin._ "I can see that."

"I should sue his ass," David mumbled.

"Well, Mr. Perkins. Maybe you should sort out this abuse case of yours first."

David ignored the jab and asked instead, "You believe me, right?"

Joel stood up and started collecting his papers. "I believe that the mind plays tricks on us sometimes."

There was a loaded pause, loaded enough that Joel had to look up to see if the guy was still with him. As he looked up, a furious version of David Perkins lunged across the table and made a grab for the FBI-agent.

"You bastard!" he roared.

Joel took a quick step back and without showing a trace of fear at the situation that had gotten slightly out of his control, his voice was composed as he raised it to attract the attention of the, "Guard! Guard!"

The guard came to let him out and Agent Martin took one final look at the man breathing hard from the anger on the other side of the table. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Perkins." _You, my friend,_ deserve _prison_.

* * *

_Tess_

He might be one of the few with the same mysterious background as hers truly and he might hold the answers to some of her questions, but not even Max Evans was allowed to walk out on her. Especially not for another girl. If there was any element of truth in the vague dreams she occasionally had, Max Evans should only have eyes for her.

She came to a halt outside of Max's apartment. This time she had chosen to visit at a time that he was actually home. Since her surveillance of his apartment was still undisturbed, she would postulate that none of the surveilled in the apartment had discovered that their secret conversation was not that secret anymore. She hadn't watched the feed since before her meeting with Max Evans the night before, but was still pretty confident that nothing had changed.

It didn't take Max long to answer the door after she knocked. Frankly, he opened it so quickly that her hand was still raised in the midst of the intended second knock. She couldn't help but noticing how his face fell as he saw who the visitor was.

Apparently, she hadn't made a very good impression by trying to break into his mind yesterday.

"Tess Harding, was it?" he asked bluntly, looking tense.

She got her lips to form a smile. "Hello, Max. I would like to continue our conversation now." No time like the present and Tess was not one to beat around the bush.

He raised an eyebrow, standing still as a statue, still grabbing the door knob. "Would you now?"

"Come on," she put her head to the side and fluttered her eye lashes innocently. That usually did the trick. "I know you have just as many questions as I do."

Her good spirits were diminished as her speculated ex-husband seemed unaffected by her usually effective charms.

"Now is really not a good time, Ms. Harding," Max said tensely.

Tess frowned and angled her head somewhat in attempt to see past him into his apartment. "Why not? You got company?"

Max moved marginally to the side to block Tess' inspection and Tess felt her irritation grow. If only he had known that she had a top aerial view of his home, delivered straight to her laptop. The thought brightened her mood some and had her revert to a more pleasant tone of voice. "How about tomorrow?"

"Look," Max didn't move an inch. Tess couldn't help but compare this stoic and so-very-much-in-control version of Max to the nervous and plainly scared version she had seen when he had left her so abruptly the evening before that he had almost toppled her over. _This_ was a man she could respect. The other type…urgh.

"I don't appreciate that you looked up my address," Max continued, "but since you're here… It would probably be better if you meet me with some friends of mine."

_Ah, interesting,_ Tess thought. _Big guy is afraid of making decisions on his own. He wants me to meet the 'gang' before he makes up his mind about me._

"Sure," she smiled. "When's a good time then?"

"On Monday. Afternoon."

Tess frowned. "That's a week from now."

"That's all I can do, Ms. Harding. Sorry."

She almost rolled her eyes. "Monday it is. Nice meeting you again, Max."

"Sure," Max answered and closed the door.

Tess resisted the urge to give Max's closed door the finger. Getting information was sometimes a very tedious and nauseating line of shitty work. But someone had to do it.


	29. Chapter 28

**CHAPTER 28**  
_Michael_

Michael couldn't believe Max had been so stupid.

Max was the most rational of the three so even if Michael had respected that Max really had wanted to save that girl, Michael had still believed that Max would see the reasonable solution to the problem and let nature run its course.

Well, at least he had believed that until Max had called him last night basically ordering him to hand over a guy to the police.

Now they were standing in Max's apartment involved in what his girlfriend would call an 'intervention'. Max had just returned from answering a knock at the door. Michael couldn't care less about who it was as he momentarily was too caught up in his own anger and disappointment.

"You've put all of our lives in jeopardy," Michael said before Max had completely returned to the living area of the apartment.

"Don't be so dramatic," Max sighed, taking a seat on the armrest of the chair where his sister was seated, looking worried. "I've only told her about _me_. You guys were never mentioned."

"Jesus," Michael exhaled, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you're being this stupid. From what I've found on this girl-"

Max frowned and interrupted, "You've researched her?"

Michael decided that Max questioning Michael's obvious route to ensuring their survival was not deemed an answer right now and continued as if Max hadn't spoken, "-she's not the dullest crayon in the box. This girl is a fucking genius."

Max got to his feet, looking angry. "Michael, you can't just go around running background checks on-"

"I'm not finished, Maxwell," Michael hissed.

"Yes, you are," Max interrupted, his jaw muscles tightening.

"Can we please calm down?" Isabel suggested wearily. She was so tired of those two always fighting, engaging in something of an eternal pissing contest.

"She will figure it out!" Michael practically roared, ignoring Isabel alongside with Max. "If she hasn't already. It won't take her long to decipher your oh-so-difficult code."

"Even if she does, she won't tell," Max said, his voice still not raised, but dangerous. Michael was actually instinctively made nervous by that voice as if some rational voice inside of him was telling him to yield. But his anger easily overrode that instinct.

Isabel jumped to her feet. "Shut up!"

Her order produced a moment of silence before Michael grumbled, "She's a human being; she'll mess up. Humans are not constructed to be able to hide these type of things."

Michael earned an angry look from Isabel for breaking the silence, but the statement had already triggered Max. "She's different."

"Aren't they all?" Michael said sarcastically.

"Maria's been able to keep it a secret, hasn't she?"

"Don't drag me into this," Maria said from the kitchen where she had been munching on popcorn, making herself a promise that she wouldn't interfere with this intervention. This was an alien-matter.

"She's human," Max added as per clarification.

"I've noticed," Michael said, the sarcasm showing again.

"As you pointed out yourself," Max said, "Liz is smart. She is the most equipped at handling these type of situations."

"Yeah, well. People become stupid when they're scared."

"Liz is not scared."

Michael gave a humorless laugh. "You're certain of that? You have _no idea_ what goes on in that pretty little head of hers. Her natural instinct is probably telling her right now to go straight to the bluecoats and report what she's seen."

"Who would believe her?" Maria asked. "They'd probably just think she's crazy."

"With that background of intellect?" Michael questioned, shooting his girlfriend a disappointed look. _Come on, Ria. I thought you were on my side here._

"There's a fine line between genius and insa-" Maria started, but Michael interrupted her.

"Oh come on, Maria! You know as well as I do that even if that information might be seen as ludicrous at the first stop, it's too juicy to stay there. It will get around and eventually end up in the hands of someone that doesn't find it so unbelievable."

Michael surveyed the people in front of him, apparently the people that mattered the most to his existence. "Am I the only one seeing the facts here? You need to pull off those fucking pink glasses and smell the fucking disaster here! Because of you," he pointed at Max, who was looking at him in an enervating calm manner, "we have to leave this place. Probably change identiti-"

"Oh, come on," Isabel sighed.

Michael was appalled with this whole situation. "Why are you not taking this seriously?"

"Because I know Liz," Isabel answered. "She seems like a person that could handle this."

Michael felt the air go out of him and turned his back on the group of traitors. He always feared that they would side with perfect Max, but never on a matter like this. Never when it came to their survival.

"Michael, we understand your concern," Max started and Michael cringed at that condescending tone. "But how about meeting Liz first, before you jump to conclusions?"

"It won't make a difference," Michael said under his breath.

Maria stepped up to him (_Damn_) and Michael knew he was in for a losing battle. She put her hand on his arm and he could feel her calm gaze on the side of his face. "One chance, Michael. Give it one chance. Then I'll leave with you if that's still what you want to do."

He looked at her and read the sincerity on her face. "Just one," he mumbled, hating to give in. Hating the feeling of having lost. He had never been a gracious loser.

"Yeah," Maria nodded.

"This might not be the right time to tell you guys this," Max said and Michael felt the almost erased anger start up again. _Now what?_

He turned around so that he could see the group again. Max looked him straight in the eye, knowing that it was best to get Michael to agree on this matter.

"This woman by the name of Tess Ha-"

Isabel looked up at her brother with genuine surprise and interrupted, "Tess?"

Michael leaned back against the wall. _Here we go. Next fucking problem on the list._ "What is this? National Ruining Michael's Life Day?"

"So what she said was true then? You know her?" Max asked.

"I know _of_ her," Michael corrected. "But your dear sister over there is very chummy with her."

Isabel had the grace of looking ashamed as Max looked down at his older sister wearing a mask of mixed emotions.

"She's nice," Isabel said in defense.

"She's not to be trusted," Michael amended.

Max surprised Michael by agreeing. "I got that feeling too."

"So what did she do?" Michael tried to hide his curiosity. What _had_ Tess done to earn such a response from Max?

"She tried to see into my mind," Max stated matter-of-factly.

Isabel whipped her head to her brother, startled. "She _what?_"

But Michael wasn't surprised. No wonder he'd never trusted her. She was like them. "She's alien?"

"Appears so," Max said.

"She's never tried anything like that on me," Isabel said, looking confused.

_Probably trying to make sense of this different picture of her friend,_ Michael thought bitterly.

"At least not to your knowledge," Michael said out loud which had Isabel look terrified.

"No," Max shook his head, "No. I don't think she can do that to us without our knowledge. She can probably do it to humans, because she seemed very surprised when I kicked her out. But I'm pretty sure we would all be able to feel her. It was like… like something was gnawing on my brain."

"Hard to miss…" Michael mumbled.

"So what…?" Isabel breathed. "So what does she want?"

"She wants to talk to us. Probably about what we know. Well, she mostly wanted to talk to me, but I didn't want you to be excluded."

Michael shot him a look. _So now we are welcomed back into the decision making process, Max?_

"Thanks for thinking of us," Michael responded acidly.

"When?" Isabel asked.

"On Monday."

Michael nodded. "Works for me. Let's see what that little manipulator knows."

He was actually quite excited about the prospect. He had a feeling they might not get too much out of the girl (it probably went against her nature to be into sharing), but it might shine some light on what the hell they were doing on this planet.

"Okay, I've had enough of this shit," Michael announced and headed for the front door. "Set up a meeting with that girlfriend of yours as well, Maxwell, and let me know."

"Michael…" Max warned.

But Michael had already left the apartment.

* * *

_Liz_

It was surprising how many of the employees of Elkus Manfredi Architects that were not surprised, particularly amongst the female workers, to hear about Liz's 'misfortunate run in with David Perkins after hours. Several employees approached Liz during her first day back to express their commiseration and occasionally adding their less flattering description of that ex-colleague of theirs. Some even seemed relieved (possibly themselves having been at the receiving end of David's charms) and Liz's boss came to personally apologize for Mr. Perkins actions.

If Liz had been even a minuscule amount nervous about that first day back at work after a week of recuperation at home, it was completely evaporated at the supportive treatment she got at her workplace. It further enhanced the feeling that she _had_ picked the right place of employment after all, even though it had put her straight in the way of David.

But that good feeling wasn't going to last. As she made her way towards the door to her office, her employer had just finished their conversation with "I'm arranging for your next colleague to be a woman" called out to her, "Oh, and Ms. Parker, there's an FBI-agent in your office. He has some questions about the incident."

Liz froze and her heart plummeted straight through her body to land with a hard echo in her feet. Normally, seeing an agent from the Bureau wouldn't be such a big deal, considering that she had always been a good law-abiding citizen.

But as of a week ago, she now carried a large federally significant secret that had changed her from being a normal somewhat naïve thinker into one of the most elaborate believer of political conspiracies. Hence, her first thought after Mr. Smith's announcement was; _Why is the Federal Bureau of Investigation interested in a regular case of sexual abuse?_

She swallowed, tried to compose herself and calm her nervously fluttering heart, before she opened the door to her office.


	30. Chapter 29

**CHAPTER 29**  
_Liz_

He was young. Probably her age. He had the body of a prepubescent boy, tall and lanky, and reddish brown hair. Combined with the spray of freckles across his nose he might have come off as a benevolent insecure man doing a routine check on his first day out of the Academy.

She might have been able to convince herself that if it hadn't been for the sharp and penetrating look in those grey eyes of his and the disconcerting calmness of his body language as he carefully followed Liz with his eyes as she closed the door to her office behind her and walked up to her desk.

The young agent had taken the liberty of taking a seat in her desk chair, making her feel like a guest in her own office as she, in response to his "Please take a seat, Ms. Parker", slowly sank down in one of the 'visitor chairs' opposite him.

Her mouth felt dry as he appraised her composedly, but she managed to make her voice sound almost normal as she stated, "You wanted to see me?"

He smiled. "Yes." He rose to his feet, stretching his hand out towards her. She mimicked his gesture and reacted to the coolness of his hand as he squeezed hers in greeting. "Elizabeth Parker, I presume?"

She nodded and sat down.

"I'm Special Agent Martin, pleased to meet you."

She nodded again, hoping that he couldn't see the contours beneath her shirt of how her heart was trying to jump out of her chest.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here."

His voice was pleasant, but the look in his eyes was too calculating to let her relax. "I assume this has something to do with my charges against David Perkins."

He smiled again. "Something like that."

A chill went through her. She decided that the best approach was to not say anything unless he posed a question.

"Ms. Parker," Special Agent Martin continued and glanced down at a thin collection of papers in front of him. Liz got the feeling that there was nothing in the material in front of him that he didn't know by heart. The act to give his papers a check was probably just that; an act. Maybe to put her at ease. Instead, Liz felt her palms sweat.

"First of all," Special Agent Martin continued and looked up from his papers, "I'm very sorry about what happened to you, and I want you to know that the people working with your case will do anything they can to make sure Mr. Perkins gets the appropriate penalty."

Liz swallowed and tried to will herself to relax. Maybe he was only here to help. "Thank you."

Special Agent Martin smiled and leaned back in the chair, fitting the tips of his fingers of his two hands together contemplatively. "Now, let's talk about Max Evans."

Liz felt the blood drain from her face and there was a constricting feeling in her throat (not much different than when David's hands had forcibly blocked her air supply). She decided that ignorance was probably the way to go right now. "Max Evans? That's the man who saved me, right?"

He gave a short humorless laugh, "Yes," as if he had anticipated her to fake oblivion. "The man that saved you. Did you know that he is the brother of Isabel Evans?"

To lie or not to lie…? Liz had a feeling that this man knew a lot more than she initially suspected. Lying right now might only worsen the situation.

"Yes," she answered tonelessly.

"And I believe that you work with this Isabel Evans?"

"That's correct."

"And I have it on fairly good authority that you had already met Max Evans before the night of your assault. At a firm party, am I correct?"

"Oh," Liz mumbled. Maybe she should work innocence into this as well. Although she already had a feeling that she was digging her own grave. "That was him? I hadn't made the connection. I was not really myself the night of the assault, as you might understand."

The man appraised her silently and then nodded. "Of course, Ms. Parker. It is quite understandable that you were a bit out of sorts from the ordeal. But even so," he straightened up in the chair, "you spent an hour or so with this Max Evans after the incident. I just find it odd that you would accompany a strange man to his home right after you almost got raped." Liz stopped breathing. "It would actually make more sense to me if you knew Max Evans previously and, because of that, trusted him enough to follow him home." The agent shrugged, an amused glint in his eyes. He knew he had seen straight through her. "But maybe that's just me."

"Agent Martin," Liz said, trying to still her nerves. She had gotten out of worst things in her life. _Not really, but keep telling yourself that._ "I can't really explain my actions that night. I was terrified and deeply traumatized by what had happened and I can't claim that I had the most logical thought process. Maybe I, on some level, did recognize Mr. Evans even though I was too worked up to consciously put two and two together at the time. But right now I can't explain it any other way than that I trusted that this man - who had just saved my life - would not hurt me. Considering the situation, I just wanted to get out of there and it didn't cross my mind that the man who had helped me would set out to hurt me too. Maybe that was stupid," Liz shrugged, "_dangerous_ even. But at the time I went with my gut feeling, and it was telling me that Max Evans could be trusted."

The agent had been observing her quietly during her statement, never taking her eyes off her. He was a man with a true poker face, not revealing a single hint as to what he was really thinking. Now he let silence envelop them for three long seconds before he said, "I don't think that's stupid, Ms. Parker. That's survival. Thank you for clearing that up for me."

She should have felt relieved, but she felt anything but. "Sure."

"There's just a lot of question marks around your case, Ms. Parker."

Liz frowned. "Sir?"

"And I hope that you'll be able to shed some light on them."

Liz nodded. "I'll do my best, Agent Martin."

"Max Evans took you back to his place that night. Why not directly to the hospital?"

"I can't really explain Mr. Evans actions and decisions, sir."

"But why did not _you_, Ms. Parker, insist on being taken to the hospital? As I've understood it from the report, you sustained quite serious injuries that needed medical care."

Liz shook her head, "Again, Agent Martin. I was scared and very shaken up. My thinking at the time wasn't logical."

"I understand that, Ms. Parker. But that again brings us back to why Mr. Evans didn't make the decision to take you to the hospital. From what I can see from the notes I have on Max Evans, he works as an EMT. _He especially_ should be aware of how important it would be to bring you straight to the hospital or the police, instead of a private residence."

"Maybe that was the reason for his actions."

"How do you mean, Ms. Parker?"

"Maybe because he works in the medical field he thought he could see to my injuries himself. As I understand it, he's a very good EMT."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Parker," Special Agent Martin looked anything but, "It just doesn't make sense."

"Sir, I wouldn't be able to tell you the reasons behind Mr. Evans' decisions. He _did_ take me to the hospital and the police, just not straight away. Instead he gave me the opportunity to calm down in a calm environment."

The agent didn't look satisfied with her answers, but seemed to decide that he wouldn't be able to get any other reply out of her. "Well, maybe I should consult Mr. Evans about this instead."

"Maybe," Liz agreed and experienced a new sense of panic. Because of her, a federal agent was now suspicious of Max.

"What I _need_ to ask you, though, Ms. Parker, concerns the details of how Mr. Evans saved you."

"It should be in the statement I gave to the police," Liz said, hoping that the agent would settle for that.

"That's the thing, Ms. Parker. There are some questions mark there as well."

Liz resisted the urge to take a deep breath. "What would you like to know, sir?"

"Just take it from the beginning. Mr. Perkins had forced you to the ground, then what happened?"

"Max showed up, saw our struggle and pulled David off me," Liz answered simply.

Special Agent Martin raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"

"Yes."

"David Perkins doesn't describe it quite like that."

The memory of that night flashed in front of her eyes. Of the brief green light, of how quickly David was pulled off her and how far away he was lying afterwards. As if Max had swatted a fly.

"How does he describe it?" Liz asked. How much had David seen? Would this agent believe a criminal's version over hers?

"Well," Special Agent Martin mused. "Let's just say that Mr. Perkins account has some flare of… SciFi."

_He knows. David knows._ She swallowed and forced herself to smile incredulously. "What does that mean?"

The agent shrugged, "Probably nothing," trying to give the impression that he took the whole thing lightly, but the cool level look in eyes said differently.

"I was almost unconscious," Liz supplied. "The details of how it happened are blurry at best. But I know that Max pulled him off and from what Max told me, David was knocked unconscious when Max pushed him up against the wall."

"Huh," Special Agent Martin breathed.

"With all due respect, sir, that's another thing I don't have an explanation for to due to my condition at the time."

"No green light?"

Liz was startled and from the narrowing of Special Agent Martin's eyes as she meet his gaze told her that he had noticed her surprise.

"What do you mean?" she asked, hoping that her voice didn't creak as much as she thought it did.

"Mr. Perkins reports of seeing a green light. A green light between his body and yours, just seconds before he was propelled off you. Almost as if this green light was the object that flung him off you."

"Sir?" Liz laughed, aiming for accentuating ridicule but hitting nervousness, "Are you serious?"

Special Agent Martin looked at her calmly, his stone mask in place. "Mr. Perkins was very serious. Very convincing actually. I can't claim that I have an explanation for it myself, but it seemed as if he was telling the truth."

"His incentive for trying every trick in the book to get out of this is probably quite high," Liz said. "Even to the point of making up outrageous stories."

"Something tells me he was not making this up," Agent Martin said evenly. "He didn't strike me as a man who'd want to get a reputation of being a whacko."

Liz felt the fear more acutely then. This is what Isabel was afraid of. Even though tales of green light would not be taken seriously by the regular law enforcement, it might be taken as truth if heard by the wrong ears.

"I don't think you mentioned which department you are from, sir? If you don't mind me asking?"

He smiled. That unnerving, insidious smile. "I'm from a special branch of the FBI, Ms. Parker."

_Special._ Which could mean a lot of things, but the risk of that branch dealing with unexplained events was higher than if he had been from the regular field office in Boston.

"In Boston?" she asked, keeping her voice even.

Agent Martin looked amused. "No. Albuquerque, actually."

Liz's heart started sinking. Albuquerque. New Mexico. Not that far from Roswell. "Why is the FBI taking such an interest in my case? And why isn't the Boston field office handling this? Is this routinely done?"

He gave her a polite and dismissive smile. "Just tying up some loose ends, Ms. Parker."

He rose and bunched his papers together while still looking at her. "I sincerely wish you well, Ms. Parker," eyeing the bruises covering a large part of her face and stretched his hand out for her in dismissal, "Thank you for your time."

She pressed his hand and nodded. "Thank you, Agent Martin."

"I'll keep in touch," he promised her as he rounded the desk and headed for the exit.

Liz felt her heart freeze. He was not done.


	31. Chapter 30

**CHAPTER 30**  
_Max_

"How long have you known?"

Max had barely taken his eyes off the blonde petite girl with the innocent appearance and sly smile since she had entered his apartment twenty-three minutes ago. Michael's question was one in a long line of questions being fired at Ms. Theresa Harding this afternoon.

Tess shrugged. "Since the orphanage."

"Did you know about me?" Michael continued. "When I was at the orphanage, did you recognize me as being the same as you?"

"I had my suspicions," Tess replied.

"How did you know?" Isabel asked quietly from the other end of the room. She had been uncharacteristically quiet during the conversation and Max suspected it was a result of her trying to reconcile with the idea of Tess being an alien. Just like them.

"It happened by accident," Tess said, her voice softening slightly as she addressed Isabel instead of Michael. "A foster father at the time tried to 'reprimand me', you could call it. It ended with him on the floor, waving at big bats that only existed in his mind."

"Which you put there," Michael added.

Tess nodded, apparently unaffected by the horrors she might have caused. "I wanted him to be eaten by big nasty bats and hopefully get rabies as a result and there they were. Projected in his mind, from my fantasy world."

"What else can you do?" Max asked.

She turned ice blue eyes towards him. Her look made him feel unsteady. But not in the way Liz's eyes made his knees feel weak. No, Tess' eyes on him brought forth something primal, something almost sinister. He pushed the feeling to the back of his mind and hoped that he looked unbothered as he awaited her reply. It was the first time he had addressed her since she entered his apartment.

She shrugged and gave him a half-smile. "I have the same basic set-up of powers as I presume you have."

"Enlighten us," Michael said shortly, his arms tightly folded across his chest, deeming him unapproachable.

"Telekinesis, manipulation of molecules, creating energy blasts."

Max could feel Michael's eyes on him as Tess spoke. Her answer confirmed what Michael had already suspected; that Tess knew a lot about them and their abilities.

"Do you know where we come from?" Michael asked.

"Probably as much as you do," Tess supplied.

"What do you know of the beginning of your life on Earth?" Max questioned.

"You know," Tess shrugged lightly, "Came to naked in a pod in a cave. Wandered outside. Picked up by the police and placed in an orphanage. Nothing fancy."

"How did you know about us?" Michael was the one with the most questions. Max found himself reeling from all the information, causing him to remain quiet for the most part. Isabel seemed shocked into silence in another way altogether. Maria had decided not to come. Or to be specific; Michael had forbidden her to come. Max had a feeling Michael didn't trust Maria to be safe in Tess' company.

"I always had my suspicion about you," Tess answered and nodded to Michael. "The rest came from simple detective work. It doesn't take a lot to figure out why you three hang out so much. For a while I even suspected that blonde girlfriend of yours to be one too."

"Leave Maria out of this," Michael said tersely and Max hoped for Tess' sake that she would adhere to his warning.

She obliged with a nod. "Whatever you say."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Isabel asked. "Why didn't you tell me you were one of us?"

There was a longing in her voice and Max could guess why. Even with the company of Maria, Isabel had always wanted a female friend who was just like her. Someone to confide in, someone that was faced with the same issues as she was.

And even though Tess seemed a bit too callous and nonchalant about this whole discussion, there was something akin to compassion whenever she addressed Isabel. "I'm sorry, Isabel. But I think you can appreciate that I wanted my suspicions confirmed before I went blabbering about this with you."

"Why did you try to get into my brain?" Max asked.

Tess' eyes flickered to him and there was something in her eyes (fear? nervousness?) for a moment which was gone the next. "Again, I needed to confirm my suspicions. I wanted to go through your memories for that. To be honest, I didn't expect you to be aware of it."

"So you can do that - normally - without anyone's knowledge?" Isabel asked.

"It's very easy," Tess said simply, without a thread of remorse at the privacy she was invading.

"Did you do it to me?" Isabel albeit whispered.

"No," Tess answered softly. "You're my friend, Isabel."

"A truthful one at that," Michael added.

"I didn't find you all that truthful when we met, Michael," Tess said acidly.

"But I didn't know who you were," Michael sneered.

"I had my suspicions at the time, but wasn't sure," Tess said. "As I said, I had to be sure before I could tell you."

"What do you want from us?" Max decided to ask, before Michael lunged for Tess' throat. Michael was glaring hotly at Tess.

"Nothing," Tess answered, appearing innocent, but somehow Max didn't feel it. "I wanted you to know that I existed. Maybe let me into your group. Maybe I could help to figure out our past. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one of the four of us who's interested in where we came from and why we can do the things we do."

"Why should we trust you?" Michael asked.

"Look," Tess said, an edge to her voice. "I've been nothing but accommodating to you people. Look at it from my perspective; I come in here, one against three, and I've answered every question you've thrown at me. What is to say that you won't kill me right now? After all, I'm outnumbered and I don't know if I can trust you."

"She's got a point," Isabel mumbled.

"And since I'm one of you," Tess continued, "I can't very well turn you in to the authorities without the risk of exposing myself."

Michael scoffed, signaling to Max that his male friend didn't really believe that statement.

"I'm sure you can appreciate that it will take us some time to trus-" Max started but was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Um… excuse me."

"Just ignore it," Michael ordered behind his back, but Max couldn't ignore this one.

He could feel the visitor on the other side of the door the closer he got.

She was pale and there was a slight tremor in her body as she hugged her coat closer around her, as if she was freezing cold.

He could feel fear coursing through his visitor behind the door he had just opened, which instantly put him on alert. "Liz?"

"Hi," she mumbled, ashamed eyes meeting his.

They hadn't seen each other since that night. More than a week had passed. He had been afraid to approach her. He had wanted to give her space. But he had felt every second apart from her. Seeing her now felt like coming alive. On the contrary, she looked scared to death.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," she murmured. "I need to talk to you." Her eyes flickered to her right and left and he felt apprehension wash over him. Something had happened.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she mumbled, as if she was trying to assure herself rather than him. "Can I come in?"

He wanted nothing more than to let her in. But probably for the same reason that Michael had ordered Maria to not attend this meeting, Max really didn't want Liz here right now. Just like Michael, he didn't trust Tess in the company of humans. Especially not if reality would mirror his dreams, wherein Tess had not reacted in the best manner towards Liz.

"Now is really not a good time."

A breath shuddered through her as she lowered her eyes in disappointment. "Okay."

He stepped out in the hallway and pulled the door closed behind him. She took a step back to accommodate him and gasped subtly as he cradled her cold white cheek in his palm, encouraging her to look up at him. "Liz? What happened?"

"I'm so sorry, Max," she said and looked like she was about to cry.

Her nonsensical apology brought out his deepest fear. Had she revealed the truth about him to someone? Was she here to warn him about the government that was about to capture him to possibly experiment on him and then exterminate him like the hideous creature he was?

"Tell me, Liz." A part of him didn't want to know.

"There was an agent…" she paused to swallow and Max let his hand fall away from her cheek and took a step back. Oh no…

She looked up at him in guilty surprise and started shaking her head. "No. No, Max, I didn't tell him."

He exhaled and let the door behind him support his suddenly jelly-like body.

"But he had a lot of questions about what happened," Liz continued and he was only mildly startled at the electricity running through his palm as she grabbed his hand. "Apparently David had a lot to say about the matter."

"They won't believe him," Max said, shaking his head. They _wouldn't_ believe him. That was his only reprise.

"I'm not so sure," Liz said, looking at him with glistening eyes and he realized that she was worried about him. Her concern was not for her own safety or her own involuntary involvement in this, but for his. The realization was almost enough to blaze away his ascending feelings of panic.

He smiled at her softly. "Liz, it'll be okay. They have nothing."

"He was talking about the light - the green light," Liz added and the good feeling her concern had brought him instantly vanished. "And questioning how you knocked David out. The agent certainly knew a lot about the case and about you. It felt like he knew a lot about _you._"

Thoughts were racing through his head as he squeezed her hand and leaned in close, needing to smell her scent, needing to encase himself in the warmth from her body (even though she was probably chilled to the core from the look of her appearance right now) as a reassurance. Almost letting his forehead touch hers, he mumbled, "Thank you."

She blinked and a tear escaped from her eye. "Why?"

"I know that you were defending me."

"How do you know?" she mumbled and Max felt the bubble surround them, shutting everything but the two of them out.

"I just know that you would," Max whispered.

"I don't think he believed me," Liz whispered back, another tear creating a wet streak down her cheek.

"I doesn't matter. I'll take care of it."

"How?" Liz questioned again.

"I'll find a way."

"I'm so sorry," and a sob escaped her. "You warned me. Isabel warned me. But I never realized that it might be like this. That _I _would be protecting _your_ life."

Max nodded and took a deep breath as he separated himself from her and their bubble. She looked as troubled as he felt as he let space enter between them. "I'll deal with it. Don't worry about it."

She gave a tearful laugh. "I will, you know. I'm worried about you."

He tried to give her a reassuring smile. He was certain that was not what it looked like when it grazed his lips. "And I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine," she whispered and lowered her voice into almost nothingness. "I'm _human_, there's nothing they can do to me."

Max felt a chill slam into him, freezing the blood in his veins at the thoughts of all the things humans would indeed do to other humans to acquire information.

"I hope so," he answered, not wanting to alarm her or shake her naïve view of the world. Liz was still blissfully unaware that sometimes her rights as an American citizen, an citizen of Earth, were not enough.

Maybe she had felt his chill, maybe she had felt his fear, because she didn't seem to believe him. "What would they do to me?"

Max shook his head, trying to stop her from thinking similar thoughts to what had plagued him. "It's okay. Don't think about it."

"What would they do, Max?" Liz asked, more forcibly.

"I don't know," Max answered truthfully. "But you have to be careful. You can't show that you know of me in any way. Our paths crossed that day and that's it."

"The agent knew that we know each other, I'm sure of it."

Max stilled. The agent couldn't know. He let his gaze flicker over her head, momentarily scanning the hallway. As he did he was hit by the absurdity of it, of how quickly his paranoia would kick in. But, paranoia was his middle name. Were they being watched?

"He knew that we had met at the party. He knew that you were Isabel's sister. He knew of Isabel."

Max looked at her. Her statement caused him to question what he had told her that week before. "Do _you_know of Isabel?"

She dropped her eyes and inhaled deeply before looking up at him and lowering her voice, "Before I met you, Isabel told me the same story - of having been found in the desert. She also told me that it was with you. That you were adopted together. It was not that hard to figure out, Max."

Michael had been right, Max thought and wasn't sure if he should be happy or devastated. _Liz had interpreted the facts correctly. _

Before he had a chance to comment on this, Liz added, "Which just gives me even the more reason to protect your secret."

He relaxed. He had no reason to distrust her. He could feel her sincerity emanating from her in waves.

"Maybe we shouldn't see each other," Max said, regretting it the second he voiced it. Not seeing her was the least he wanted. He found himself waiting anxiously for the opportunity to meet with her. But it wasn't safe. Certainly not now.

He could see his disappointment echo across her countenance. "Because of the agent?"

Max nodded. "It's not safe. We need to ensure everyone that I was just saving you that night and that you know nothing more of me. That way they'll leave you alone."

She was biting her bottom lip and she suddenly looked very vulnerable. Resolutely she started to shake her head. "Yeah, okay. That's probably the best thing to do."

"You have my number, right?" Max questioned, ensuring that she knew that it was not _his_ choice to cut her off.

She seemed to get the hint because a small smile fell on her lips as she looked up at him. "Yes."

"If you need me. For anything. Just call. Okay?"

She let out a relieved breath. "Okay."

"Just try and act normal. Forget about the agent and he will forget you."

She nodded, as if his suggestions were starting to make more and more sense. "Okay."

He let go of her hand and instead cradled her cheek and let his thumb slide slowly across her cheek. Her smooth, soft cheek. A longing rattled through him and he held back a sigh. "Be careful."

She attempted a smile and nodded. "Yeah. You too."

"Thank you for telling me," Max said and let his hand drop.

"Of course," Liz said softly. "Bye."

"Bye," Max said and watched her retreat until she disappeared into the elevator at the end of the hall.

Staying away from Liz Parker was going to be painful.


	32. Chapter 31

**CHAPTER 31**  
_Isabel_

Tess Harding was an alien.

Just like her brother and Michael. Just like her.

Max had been distant after returning from his rather lengthy absence after answering the knock at the door, so the discussion with Tess had more or less started to ebb out into nothingness. Apparently, Tess didn't know much more than they did about their origin. Or at least, that's what she claimed.

Isabel felt like she _should_ distrust Tess, like Max and Michael done so easily, but she had also known Tess from before and had built up a kinship with the girl. And after figuring out who Tess was, there was even more reason to keep Tess in her life; Isabel finally had an alien female friend. Someone who knew what it was like to not be able to tell a boyfriend the reason why the sex was 'out of this world' or why she needed to put sweetener into everything. Max and Michael had the same affiliation, only with Tabasco. But she had never discussed sex with them. The mere thought made her cringe.

Maria had shared a detail or two about the sensation of having sex with Michael which had led Isabel to believe that the extraordinary sensations in her sex-life was because of her alien origin and not because of some fantastic sexual capabilities.  
But with Tess, there was the possibility of figuring out all these things first-hand. Without the gender issue getting in the way.

That is, if she could trust Tess.

And then there was Liz.

Max had been more annoying than usual, constantly on her case. "How's Liz?", "Was Liz at work today?", "Does she seem okay?", "Is she acting differently around you?" etc. etc. For some reason, her brother had gotten it into his head that he shouldn't see Liz for awhile. He was very reluctant to share the reason behind this with his sister. Judging by how distracted Max had become after answering the door in the middle of their meeting with Tess, Isabel had a good guess as to who had been on the other side of the door.

Her brother aside, Michael was also on her case, trying to get her to explain to him why Max hadn't set up a meeting with Liz yet. Michael wanted to know if he should leave the country, or something. Something that could only be decided once he had met and evaluated Liz Parker.

Isabel sighed and poured the hot coffee into her cup. Why was she always the meddler?

"Hey, Isabel."

_Speak of the devil. Or the human._

Isabel turned and saw Liz in the doorway of the small office kitchen. "Hi, Liz."

"How are you?"

Isabel smiled. "I'm fine." Isabel took a close look at Liz as she stepped further into the kitchen area, pulling out an assortment of tea bags to make a choice of flavor. She noted the remnant of the bruise across Liz's nose and spanning her cheek, which was now a faint yellow color. "Your face is healing up nicely."

"Yeah," Liz nodded and gave her a weak smile.

"Have they set a date yet?" A date for the hearing.

Liz shook her head. "No."

Isabel frowned. Liz was not acting her normal open self. "What's up?"

Liz's eyes flickered to her before refocusing on pouring hot water through the tea bag in her cup. "I'm sure Max has told you…"

Isabel almost sighed in exasperation. She was sure that Max had indeed _not_ told her whatever it was Liz thought Max had told his sister. Liz didn't know Max that well yet. Max was the type that would 'happily' keep information from you if there was a risk that it might scare you or harm you in any way. Sometimes Isabel wondered if Max got a kick out of putting all the worries of the world on his own shoulders instead of asking for help.

"I'm sure he hasn't." Liz looked up in surprise and Isabel reprimanded herself for her rather testy tone and added, "Sorry."

Liz responded by closing the door to the small kitchen and Isabel felt an ice-cold hand squeeze her heart. Just a little bit.

_What now?_

"He hasn't told you that a special agent from the FBI came to see me?"

The hand squeezed tighter. "No." _Damn you, Max Evans._

Liz frowned. "That's odd."

"Tell me, Liz," Isabel said, a hint of impatience in her strained voice.

"He wanted to know what happened that night. He brought up the…force field Max used."

Isabel felt faint. "He what?" she whispered.

Liz took a step towards her, concern in her eyes.

_I must look ready to keel over, _Isabel thought. _I certainly feel like doing that._

"David told the agent and I got the feeling that the agent was more inclined to believe David than me."

"What division was he from?" Isabel croaked.

"He said it was a special branch of the FBI, in Albuquerque."

"Special," Isabel murmured and put the coffee cup down. Her hand was shaking too badly to hold it. "They know…"

Liz started shaking her head. "I'm sorry… I thought Max had told you."

Isabel laughed bitterly. "He probably didn't want to worry me. That's Max for you."

Liz seemed to consider this and then move on. "I think that's why there's a delay in setting a date for the hearing. I think this agent is still…investigating."

"And he mentioned Max specifically?" Isabel felt nauseous.

Liz nodded. "But I didn't say anything."

Isabel waved her assuring statement away. "I know you didn't."

Liz seemed relieved by this and it suddenly became very clear to Isabel why Max had seemed adamant on keeping his distance from Liz. "He's protecting you."

"Sorry?" Liz asked, still staring at her worriedly.

"Max. That's why he hasn't contacted you or arranged a meeting with you and the rest of us yet."

Liz looked confused. And a bit frightened. "A meeting?"

Isabel closed her eyes and shook her head; trying to clear her thoughts. Her palms were sweating and she was having troubles breathing. Their cover was blown. The authorities knew of Max. If Michael found out about this, he wouldn't even be interested in meeting with Liz. He wouldn't need to. He would have all the reason to get out of here. To go into hiding. To change identities. How could Max do this? Why would he keep this from them and jeopardize their safety?

There was suddenly a comforting hand on her shoulder and Isabel opened her eyes to see Liz standing in front of her. "Are you okay?"

Of course, she answered her own mental question. Because of _her._ Because of Liz Parker. If they had to go into hiding, he wouldn't be able to see Liz. Even now, when he had decided to keep Liz at arm's length, he could keep tabs on Liz through his sister.

"Thank you for telling me," Isabel murmured.

"I just thought that Max had told you."

"It's okay," Isabel said. "You couldn't know."

Liz was holding concerned warm brown eyes on Isabel's face and for a moment Isabel felt a sting of sadness. If they went into hiding, Max wouldn't be the only one to lose Liz. Isabel would too. She had started to consider Liz as a friend and Liz was one of the very few people who knew about her brother even though Liz didn't know that Isabel shared her brother's alien origin.

However, considering how Liz had protected them so far, there were high hopes that Liz would accept Isabel as an alien too.

"Maybe you should sit down," Liz said softly.

"I'm okay. I just need my cup of coffee," Isabel answered and forced a shaky smile on her lips while trying to control the tremors in her hand enough to lift the coffee cup from the counter.

"Okay," Liz said quietly.

As Isabel grabbed the door knob to open the door that Liz had just closed, Liz asked behind her, "How's Max?"

And then there was that. How _was_ Max, really? Miserable. Distant. Aloof. Tormented. Cold. Let's just say that he hadn't really been himself since that meeting with Tess. Which was probably the same day that he learnt that Liz had been questioned by a knowledgable agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, that his existence was in danger and that he had to stay away from Liz. No wonder he had been something of a terrible version of his former self.

"He's fine," Isabel lied and opened the door.

"Okay," she heard Liz answer and tried not to feel guilty about lying to Liz. Maybe Liz Parker deserved to know that Max Evans was horrible without her. But Isabel had a feeling that the knowledge would only make things worse.

They would have to leave now. Leave forever. And the less ties they had to cut, the better.

* * *

_Max_

To be completely honest, Max had not expected to have another seizure. He had counted on that the source of the seizures, the threat to Liz's life, had been averted after David had been arrested.

That's why it had come as a complete surprise when he, the day before his birthday, felt the coldness sift through his bones; a sign he had learnt to associate with him being on the verge of another premonition.

This time he was seated, at home, when the foreboding hit him and he quickly slid down on his side, positioning his mouth over the edge of the couch. He didn't have time for more precaution than that before he was pulled into the futuristic world of his vision.

She was restrained in a metal chair, almost completely reclined. Her arms were attached to the armrests via straps and her legs had been made immobile in a similar fashion. They were in an empty room with white glaring laboratory lamps and white walls.

The decoration was sparse, consisting merely of the chair and a metal table on wheels. Plus Liz, restrained against her will in that chair which could only be likened to the Frankenstein version of a dentist chair.

She was crying.

He was walking up to her as a door opened somewhere behind him and was reaching for her hand (she was moving her hands up and down at the wrists, hoping that the movement might loosen the restraints) as he spun around and saw two men enter.

"Let me go, please," Liz sobbed. "I've told you everything I know. Please."

"Now now, Ms. Parker," one of the men said. He was dressed in black, with a white shirt and black tie, in stark contrast to his reddish hair. "This won't hurt a bit. And after I get what I need, I'll let you go."

"I've told you everything already," Liz continued and Max turned back to her, her sobs tearing into his heart.

He grabbed for her hand, but his hand went straight through hers.

"This is the doctor that will assist us today," the man in black gestured towards the other man in the room. To the man in a white lab coat and white hair.

"I will report you," Liz threatened, her voice gathering strength through the tears. "This is against my rights. You can't keep me like this. You can't treat me this way."

"You are correct, Ms. Parker," the red-haired man replied. "Which is why the good doctor here has brought something that will help you forget. You'll wake up at home in your bed none the wiser."

"You bastard," Liz sobbed and struggled against the restraints. "I will remember. I will remember."

The man smiled. "I'm pretty positive you won't. This is great stuff. Excellent at causing both retrograde and anterograde amnesia." The man nodded to the doctor. "Proceed, doctor."

The doctor nodded and stepped up to Liz with a syringe.

"What's that?" Liz asked fearfully as the doctor picked up the IV-line connected to the cephalic vein of Liz's left hand.

"Well, I guess the colloquial term would be 'truth serum'. This is the refined version of hypnotics - something that the Army has been working on - that has a much higher degree of…success."

"Leave her alone!" Max yelled at the man, even though he knew that he couldn't affect anything.

"To you, Ms. Parker, it will just be a pleasant high," the man continued as if Max was merely air. Which he was.

But just as the doctor started to inject the serum into the IV-port, Liz turned her head and stared straight into Max's eyes. Max froze. _Can you see me?_

Before he had a chance to question it further, Liz said in a tearless strong voice, "Stop him, Max. Stop him."

And he was thrown out of the premonition, coming to on the living room floor. He barely had time to register what had just happened before his cell phone started vibrating in his pocket.

He wiped the saliva from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. As he brought it toward his face, his eyes froze on the Caller ID.

_Liz Parker._


	33. Chapter 32

**CHAPTER 32**  
_Liz_

She had resorted to biting her nails. It was a first for her. But the stress was too much. Her dream had been too real. Even during her nightmares - which usually consisted of her crawling around in mud in the rain and suffering miscarriages - she had never doubted that it was actually a dream. They had that blurry and non-consistent feel about them.

But this one was different. It was clear and focused.

The strangest part was that she had suddenly felt Max there and when she had turned to look, there he had been, looking startled. As if he hadn't expected her.

Which is why she had called him the second she had woken up. Because it hadn't felt like a dream.

It seemed like forever before there was a knock on her front door. Automatically, she pushed her hair back from her face and straightened her over-sized sweatshirt. She probably looked like a disaster, but she hoped he wouldn't notice - considering the circumstances.

He looked as bad as she felt.

"Hey," he said softly as she opened the door. His face was all shadows, his eyes looking at her both wearily and concerned. As if trying to get a quick hold of the situation.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," Liz replied and stepped to the side to let him in.

She had tried to give him directions to her apartment over the phone but he had interrupted her with an 'I'm sure I can find my way', which had reminded her that he had dropped her off - twice.

Now he had come to a stop in the hallway, looking uncomfortably out of place. His response to her gratitude was a fleeting, "Of course."

He seemed lost, his mind somewhere else.

"Here," Liz offered and gestured for his jacket, "Let me take that."

"Thanks," he replied politely and Liz almost grimaced. She'd hoped that they were past the polite state, but things were still a bit awkward and tentative between them. Maybe not so weird considering that she had found out that he was an alien not even a month ago and he was probably wondering how she felt about that. Not exactly your normal type of situation to end up in.

"Are you okay?" he asked as she walked past him.

"Not really," she answered, deciding that for once she wouldn't stick to her generic 'I'm fine', because she really wasn't.

He followed her into the living area and she could feel his eyes following her every movement.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Tea? Coffee?"

He shook his head and sank down on the couch. "I'm fine, thank you."

His presence in her apartment was overwhelming, making her nervous on top of the stress she was already feeling. She stopped herself just before bringing her nails to her mouth to resume her nervous habit.

Instead she exhaled an "Okay" and decided to take a seat next to him, rather than opposite, which would have been way over on the other side of the coffee-table. She couldn't bear to be far away from him now, even though proximity to him made her legs shake, made her feel like a teenager sitting next to her high school crush - wishing that he would touch her.

"It was a dream?" Max said, obviously not beating around the bush.

Liz pulled her legs up underneath her to stop them from shaking and pulled a blanket over her, feeling cold to the core. His question tore her from her scrutiny of his profile and threw her straight back into what had happened in the dream. "I was in a white room, restrained to a chair."

He didn't say anything, but she couldn't help but notice how his face got paler with her every word. "It was the FBI-agent, Special Agent Martin, that was holding me captive." She looked at him worriedly, wondering if he would pass out. And here she thought that she was stressed out. "He wanted me to reveal things about you, about Isabel. Things I hadn't told him. And he was injecting me with something."

"A serum," Max whispered and Liz's next words got stuck in her throat.

"Yes," she whispered. "And you were there." His head snapped to the side and his eyes, pupils blown out with only a thin ring of amber encircling them, caught onto hers. And she knew. "You were there."

He pressed his lips tightly together. "Do you remember when I told you about my visions? That I could see that something was going to happen to you before it actually did? How I knew that David was going to attack you?"

Liz felt her mouth fall open. "It was a vision? A premonition? Not a dream?"

Max nodded, looking at her with caution, trying to gauge her reaction. Whatever her reaction was supposed to be to something like this.

"But how…" she cleared her throat around the sudden dryness. "Why did I have it too?"

Max leaned back against the couch and wiped his hands down his face. "I don't know."

"But…" Liz felt the fear escalate as she unseeingly looked at the back of his hands, covering his face. "But if this was not a dream, but a premonition… It's going to happen? Just like with David?"

"No," Max objected, shaking his head with his face hidden behind his hands. He removed them and met her gaze straight on.

His eyes were tired and filled with remorse. And guilt.

_Is he holding himself responsible for this?_

"No," Max continued. "I won't let that happen."

Liz searched out his hand which was resting against the surface of the couch between them. "Max. This is not your fault."

He seemed surprised at her change of topic and tried to pull his hand away, but Liz only tightened her grip.

"How could it not be?" he asked bitterly and averted his eyes. "If I had only saved you by not using my powers, which exposed me to the authorities, none of this would be happening. That agent wouldn't be harassing you."

"You saved me," Liz objected. "I don't care how. You saved me, Max."

But he didn't seem to be convinced of his noble act, only plagued by the reality he had put her in. "The others warned me that telling you the truth would put you in danger. I didn't listen. I didn't want to listen."

Liz considered this. Had they been discussing her before the David incident?

"When did they discuss that with you?" Because it had been too late once he had rescued her.

Max looked up at her. "When I was having the premonitions. I felt like I needed to tell you about me, tell you the truth about my visions, in order to get you to listen to me and be careful. So that the attack wouldn't happen."

"But they wouldn't let you," Liz whispered contemplatively.

"No," he said, "They wouldn't." He tightened his jaw. "And maybe they were right. Knowing about us, knowing us puts people in danger. That's why we haven't told anyone else. That's why not even our parents know."

This came as a surprise to Liz. "You haven't told your parents?"

Max shook his head. "Too dangerous."

Liz swallowed this knowledge and tried to truly grasp the life Max was leading. How lonely it seemed to be. Not being able to be yourself with anyone. Not truly. And she remembered Isabel's surprise earlier that day at work, when she had told Max's sister about the agent.

"You didn't tell Isabel about me being questioned by an agent," Liz stated, her gaze fixed on the side of his face. But he remained still, not disclosing anything. "Why?"

"I needed to figure it out on my own," Max answered shortly and it hit Liz just how alone this man was. From what Liz had gathered, only three people in Max Evans' life (herself excluded) knew who he really was and he barely shared information even with those three individuals.

"Wouldn't they help you with those things?" Liz asked.

Max shook his head, exhaling and rubbing his eye in frustration. "We're too different. We want different things. Michael would tell us to leave immediately. Pack up our things and leave Boston."

Michael. The man she had yet to meet. But she had already figured that Michael had been the person Max had asked to hand in David to the police.

"And you don't want that…?" Liz guessed.

"No," Max shook his head and looked at her. She could feel the heat of his look all the way to her toes. "No." She got the impression that she was the reason he wouldn't leave, but almost laughed at herself for entertaining the thought. Why would he risk his life just to stay close to her?

"Especially not now," he added softly and together their eyes fell to their interlaced hands as Max was interlocking and unlocking their fingers in a gentle and slow manner. Liz forced back a shaky sigh.

"Because of the premonition," Liz breathed.

"Yeah," Max whispered.

"Then take me with you."

His fingers froze and his face snapped up to hers. "What do you mean?"

She bit her bottom lip, suddenly feeling very self-conscious and almost shy. "If you're already planning to leave, take me with you. That way I would be safe from the agent-"

"He might find us."

"He might."

"It's not safe."

"It's obviously not safe here either."

"Liz…"

"Max…"

He looked at her regretfully. "You don't know how much I would love that, but you have a life here-"

"Not if I'm being harassed by the FBI."

"What about your father? Your friends? You might not be able to contact them…"

"Maybe we'll just have to stay away until this blows over."

"It won't. We've been on their radar since the beginning. They never give up." His eyes softened and he captured her other hand, holding both her hands in his. The feeling of his skin against hers was transfixing. "You barely know us. I can't ask you to give your life up like that for some people you hardly know. Actually, it's something short of a miracle that we haven't been investigated sooner. We've managed to remain in Boston most of our lives without getting discovered. Besides, our departure would seem more suspicious if you were suddenly to disappear. You have too many connections to this place, to its people."

"I'm going with you," Liz stated simply. She'd made up her mind. True, she barely knew these people, but she already trusted them implicitly. Plus, she had a feeling that being separated from them - from Max - would be worse than following them.

Especially in light of the connection Max and she seemed to share.

"No, Liz," Max shook his head.

"It's not up for you to decide."

He looked at her sadly. "Unfortunately it is. Well, it's up to the group, but I'm pretty sure they're with me on this."

Liz couldn't help but feel hurt. Of course he didn't want her to tag along. He didn't know her. "Even with the risk of the agent getting a hold of me?"

Max paled, inhaled deeply and leaned in to tenderly push a tendril of her dark hair behind her ear. She held her breath as his fingers brushed against her cheek.

"We won't leave before then. No matter what."

"What if it's a year from now, two years?"

"Doesn't change the fact that I'll stay until I'm sure you're safe."

"How will you know when it will happen?"

"Maybe I won't. But last time there were clues in the premonition that told of what day it was."

"Right," Liz nodded. "Clues…"

She squared her shoulders, tried to will herself to be strong. If Max didn't want her on his 'trip', that was up to him. But she already feared the day he would leave, even more than the probable day she might be abducted by Special Agent Martin.

"So you wanted me to meet with the group, right?"

Max looked at her and released her hands, as if the subject became to impersonal to keep her close. "Especially now. I need to discuss this…'development' with them."

"When?"

"Tomorrow?"

Liz nodded. Better to get this over with. "Sure."

He rose from his seat and looked towards the front door. Liz realized with a sinking heart that he was preparing to leave. But he looked reluctant to do so.

"You're leaving?" Liz wondered.

He looked back at her, appearing unsure of himself. "It's late." 2.34 a.m. to be exact. "You probably want to get back to sleep."

The request was out of her mouth before her brain had a chance to filter it. "Could you stay?"

He stilled, his eyes seemingly piercing her soul as he considered her request. Then he nodded. "Of course."

She felt like she needed to explain herself and added, "I just don't want to be alone tonight."

He smiled vaguely and said softly, "I can understand that. Being a part of my world can be somewhat scary." His reply was saturated with something (guilt?), but he also appeared relieved, which had Liz suspect that he was more than happy to stay as well, to appease his own worries.

"I'll make up the couch for you," Liz smiled tentatively and left him to his own devices while she went to get bed linens.

There was a flutter in her body that she couldn't restrain. There was something thrilling about having Max Evans stay over.

She already felt much safer.


	34. Chapter 33

**CHAPTER 33**  
_Max_

Max Evans was the type of alien who blamed himself for the state of the planet Earth. He ruefully shouldered the greenhouse effect and saw his existence as a contributing factor to the rising incident of cancer in the human population.

Max Evans was, by default, not the type of alien who would form attachments to a human being since this, in Max's opinion, would inadvertently put that human being's life in danger. Even having Max Evans close by, breathing the same air, placed the homo sapiens at a certain risk.

Consequently, it was not a fluke that Max Evans had never been in a relationship or that his adoptive parents would sometime speculate in their adoptive son's sexual orientation. With the exception of Maria DeLuca and his adoptive parents, the alien was at a complete lack of human relationships.

On the subject of Elizabeth Parker, Max was strongly motivated to keep his distance.

Elizabeth Parker was someone that he, almost instinctively, wanted to protect.

And the biggest threat, in Max's humble opinion, came from having contact with Max himself. The only problem was that he, for the first time in his Earthen life, felt very strongly about _not_ staying away from this human being.

When his conscience wasn't watching, Max would even let himself indulge in the notion that he was protecting her by keeping close, not the other way around. He would wonder if a human girl like her could ever love an alien boy like him, without fear and second guessing. He would consider if her lips would feel as soft as they looked and if her body would fit against his. Sometimes, when his guard dropped away, he would imagine a future with that human girl.

A _normal_ future.

But as he watched her tuck the ends of the bed sheet between the cushions of her sofa he knew that could never be so. His guard struggled out of its submission and his conscience started banging around mercilessly on the inside of his skull. He was here tonight for one reason and one reason only; to offer her a veil of security against a threat that _his existence_ had created. If he hadn't entered her life, she would have gone about her normal life right now without having to fear about FBI agents and aliens.

_She also might have been dead by now, killed by David Perkins._

He brushed the thought away because it was a feeble attempt at justifying his continued presence in her life, when he should have left long ago.

"I hope this is okay," Liz said, interrupting his mental torment. She straightened, wisps of her dark hair dancing around her face as she looked up to meet his eyes. An angel would fade in comparison. He took in the faint flush on her cheeks, the way she was biting her bottom lip, the warm brownness of her eyes, the porcelain shimmer of her skin. She was beautiful; a work of art.

"You okay?" She had taken a step towards him, concerned as she brushed some of the errant wisps of hair away from her eyes.

He got the strongest impulse to help her out, to brush that hair away, to touch her skin and trace the pink of her flush with his fingers.

An iron curtain slammed down in his mind and he held back a sigh. It could never be. She truly was an angel to him; unattainable.

"Sorry, just tired I guess," he replied, offering her an apologetical smile.

She looked at him wordlessly for a long second (her eyes seemingly seeing straight through him) before matching his smile. "Yeah, we should get some sleep."

He nodded and accepted the pillow she handed him. "Thanks."

"Well," she looked lost for a second, looking at him as if she was expecting him to say something. He couldn't figure out what, so he kept silent and let her fill in the end of their conversation. "Good night then."

"Night," he replied and with a small smile, she disappeared into her bedroom, not really closing the bedroom door behind her.

Two inches of space between the door and the doorframe kept the connection between the two rooms open, something that happened to relax him. Sitting down on the sofa, pillow across his lap, he reached for the switch of the floor lamp and let his eyes wander to the spot where Liz had disappeared before a flick of his thumb drowned the apartment in darkness.

It felt as if he had just closed his eyes when Liz screamed.

The scream froze the blood in his vessels and shot hot adrenaline into his heart. He was stumbling out of the sofa before he was even fully awake. He had heard her scream like that before, on the night she was attacked. He had heard it again and again in his premonitions. Still, he was convinced that he would never get used to the echoes of misery, anxiety and death that ripped through that scream.

There was only that single scream before the silence of the apartment followed, in which Max struggled to get to his feet, the sheet having tangled around his legs. He fell to the floor with a thump while his hand found the switch to the floor lamp. If the quiet of the night hadn't been peppered with the irregular moans of distress from the bedroom, Max might have feared that she had been abducted (would the FBI really go to such lengths to get ahold of a witness?).

He found her in her bed, dimly illuminated by the light from the living room behind him. She was curled up in fetal position, looking vulnerably small as she failed to occupy even a quarter of the large queen-sized bed. As he got closer to the bed, he instantly reached two conclusions; 1) she was still asleep and 2) she was bleeding.

_Bleeding._

He inhaled deeply and pulled back the thin white sheet that was covering her body and covering the knowledge of what was the cause of the bleeding. The bottom part of her night gown was covered in blood and he swallowed. Being an EMT and an alien with the capacity to heal, illness, blood and trauma did not faze him. But it was different with Liz. Her pain ground through his soul like the rotating blades inside a shredder.

"Liz," he called softly. "Liz."

She returned to awareness with a harsh jolt, her dark eyes frantic as they rapidly flickered from side to side in a horizontal pattern. "My baby…"

_Baby?_

Max put a hand on her shoulder, but hastily removed it as she pulled away from him. "Liz, you're bleeding."

"They took it," she sobbed, curling further around herself. "They took my baby."

Max kneeled on the side of the bed, bringing his hand back to her shoulder. This time she let him touch her. "Liz, you have to wake up. You're bleeding."

She stilled underneath him, her breathing evening out, her eyes staring off into the darkness, past his face. He surveyed her face, unconsciously checking her color, looking for signs of her going into shock because of blood loss. "Liz?"

Her eyes snapped to his and he watched her pupils focus on him with recognition. "Max?"

He let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding and gestured down towards her body. "Liz, you're bleed-"

His words came to a halt as his eyes caught up with his gesture and he came upon the white sheets. The white _bloodless_ sheets.

"Wait," he murmured and let his hands slide down her body. Confounded by what his eyes had seen and what they were now seeing, he failed to notice what his unconscious touch was doing to Liz and how her breath got stuck in her throat as he brushed his hands up and down her bare legs, trying to find the blood that had been there.

"Max? What's wrong?"

Max lifted the sheet that he had thrown off her, looking underneath it, before looking back at Liz's body. "You were bleeding…"

Liz looked down at herself, at his hand resting against her bare knee, and her look at his hand made Max aware of himself again and he quickly pulled back from her body.

"Sorry," he mumbled and looked away. His mind was reeling. There had been blood. Where was the blood?

"It was a nightmare," Liz whispered, her voice coaxing him too look up at her. Tears were drying on her pale cheeks and her eyes were glittering from anguish in the dim light.

Max shook his head to try and clear it. Not many things surprised him, considering his background, but at that moment he found it hard to trust what he had seen. He took a hold of the sheet and pulled it back up over the lower part of Liz's now seated body. He was suddenly ashamed of what he had done, of the panic he had felt. Had her nightmare aggravated him into seeing things?

"I've had it before."

Max looked up at her again and fresh tears were rolling down her cheeks. His request was soft and non-demanding, "Tell me."

"It's raining and I'm crawling in mud. It feels like quick sand, because I can't seem to get out of it. The more I crawl, the more I sink. I've lost someone, but I can't remember who." She shakes her head as if this lack of recollection is hurting her and wipes some tears off with the back of her hand. "I think he's dead. And I think that the same person that killed him is the one coming after me."

"But it's a dream…?" Max questioned. It was as if she was describing a memory.

She bit her bottom lip, a sign Max had come to learn as a telltale sign of her uncertainty and nodded. But her reply was weak and deficient in conviction. "Yes." She sniffled and pulled the sheet to her chin. "But I've had it since I was little. In the dream… I think I'm pregnant."

Max nodded. "You were talking about a baby…"

"I was?" she wondered, brushing another set of tears off her now blotchy cheeks.

Max nodded again.

"I think I'm having a miscarriage."

Max's thoughts rushed to the blood he had seen, the blood covering her lower parts. He frowned. How was it possible? Had he really seen it? And how? "Have you ever talked to someone about this?"

She nodded, a faint tremor going through her body. "I was in therapy for years when I was little. I thought it helped since the nightmares went away. But ever since… I guess, starting my new job, they've returned."

"How did the therapist explain it?"

Liz shrugged. "As night terrors. Possibly my mind trying to deal with what had happened with my mom in that car crash, about the horrors I might've seen."

Max observed her closely. "And how do _you_ explain it?"

Liz dropped her eyes. "I agreed with my therapist. At least I did then."

"And now?"

She looked up at him and the sudden determination in her eyes surprised him. "Why do you think you were sent here, Max? To Earth?"

His heart skipped a beat. "I don't know."

"What if…What if you've lived before? What if you were important enough to stow away on another planet?"

Max could feel himself getting cold all over. His immediate reaction was to deny it. He had lived by the 'deny everything'-solution since he had formed a secret pact with his alien friends (plus Maria) and it was firmly ingrained in him not to discuss his possible origin with strangers. But Liz was no stranger. Meeting her large eyes, moistened by her fear and sorrow, he was certain that he could talk to her about anything.

"I've never thought about it," Max mumbled, but it wasn't the whole truth.

Little had been discussed of their origin because of lack of proof, but Max's own dreams of Liz and Tess had spurred thoughts in him about possible previous lives. Why else did he have a feeling that he had been married to Tess but that Liz had been his one true love? But even though he could explain Tess' presence in his past, he couldn't explain what a human like Liz would be doing there. There were just too many holes in those probable explanations.

"I just…" Liz whispered, hugging the sheet closer to her as if the topic of conversation was chilling her. "I have this strong feeling that my nightmares have happened. That maybe I've lived before and those things happened to me."

She looked at him piercingly as if she wanted to add something, but wouldn't dare to.

"Liz, I…" Max began, but was halted in his words by the intensifying tremors of Liz's body. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just," she answered, on the border of teeth clattering, "so cold."

"Hang on," Max said and rose from his kneeling position next to her bed to retrieve the blanket from the living room which she had lent him to keep himself warm during the night. Her shivers had increased as he got back to the room and her lips were starting to look blue.

He kneeled on the mattress this time, folding the blanket around her shoulders and holding it closed at the base of her throat.

"I can't…get warm," she got out between shattering teeth.

"Here," Max whispered and got onto the bed, putting his arms around her trembling body, wrapping her against his front. He felt her cold hands move over the thin material of his T-shirt, around his middle and press up against his shoulder blades.

"Thank you," she whispered and buried her face against his chest. He could feel her breaths against the base of his throat and was certain that she must feel the throbbing of his pulse against her forehead.

"Liz," he said softly. "I need to do something, okay?"

"What?" she whispered, a large tremble moving through her as she repositioned herself closer to his body. He felt her acutely; he was aware of every millimeter of her body. He could feel how every small breath moved through her body, how the goosebumps prickled her skin and the viselike grip on his T-shirt that she had curled up in her fists.

He placed a kiss against her silky hair on the top of her head and let the comforting smell of her fill his nostrils as he asked, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she answered, no hesitation.

He took a deep breath and moved to cradle her face in his hands. She had a bewildered look as he guided her face away from its hiding place against his chest to meet his eyes. "I need you to look at me."

She nodded mutely and he formed the connection. Even when he was inside her psyche, inside the workings of her body, he could feel the curl of her fingers against the skin of his back through his T-shirt and hear the gasp brush her lips. He could feel her body tensing and her head leaning backwards but her eyes never let go of his.

His fingers pressed against the pliable flesh of her cold cheeks as he made sure that the connection stayed open long enough for him to search through her anatomy. His mind took on the scientific manner of a medical doctor, used to objectifying his patients in order to distance himself from what devastation he might fall upon, as he searched her body for injuries. He found a significant loss of blood volume, which would medically place Liz in a hypovolemic crisis, but found no explanation as to why that was.

His search of her uterus and ovaries was the most thorough, but there was no evidence of the state of the nightmare manifesting itself in real life. Except for the blood loss.

Before he closed the connection, before he felt her relax against him and her hands even out against his back, he stimulated her bone marrow to up-regulate its red cell production and the spleen to pump out some reserves in order to counteract the loss of blood.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as he broke out of her mind. The tip of his fingers curled into her hair as he attempted to regain her attention, her body having gone limp as a rag doll in his arms. "Liz?"

She shuddered and opened her eyes with a gasp. "What was that?"

"You're in shock," Max answered, looking at her closely. "That's why you're so cold. You've lost blood."

She shook her head weakly, her words almost slurred, "I didn't."

"I know," Max answered and frowned. "I can't explain it. But you're going to be okay." A thought occurred to him then as she nodded, seemingly satisfied with this explanation. "Has this happened before, after your nightmares?"

"I don't remember much afterwards," Liz answered, her voice sounding a little stronger and then she leaned in to put her head against his shoulder and sighed. "So tired. I'm so tired."

"Sleep," Max whispered. "I've got you."

Maybe a phenomenon of inexplicable blood loss every time she had a nightmare would account for why she couldn't remember them too well.

Max kissed the top of her head and scooted them down in bed so they ended up on their sides, facing each other. Liz had her eyes closed, her breathing evening out, but her hold on his body remained strong.


	35. Chapter 34

**CHAPTER 34**  
_Anonymous_

There was a reason for the secrecy. The less they knew, the better protected they were.

Her assignment was considered a privilege and she had treated it as such. But lately, she had suspected that they had started to remember. The cave had been visited and for all intents and purposes, they were right now trying to decipher the language in that cave.

The truth was scheduled to be revealed upon their required return to their planet, which was not yet.

She closed the back doors to the ambulance with a sigh and rearranged the name tag that had been pushed askew. The human population were not to be underestimated. They were cunning and could be very manipulative in getting their way.

They harbored a kindness and capacity for love which was unprecedented in the totality of the universe, but if their survival was threatened, most of them revealed a bad side.

She knew of the increased interactions with Elizabeth Parker, a person she did not consider a threat but an inconvenience. She knew of the FBI agent - a human she considered to be a very high threat - who was pursuing one of her protégé's scalps.

"You ready?"

She looked up at him and nodded. "Yeah."

His amber eyes smiled back and she wondered, for about the thousandth time, when it would be safe to tell them the truth.

* * *

_Isabel_

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Max asked, apparently not caring that she hadn't even offered him a greeting when she had picked up on his phone call.

"About Liz. About the FBI agent."

There was silence. A silence which lasted so long that Isabel removed the phone from her ear and looked at the screen just to make sure that the call hadn't been disconnected.

"Liz told me. She thought you'd told me already. Which is a natural conclusion. I am, after all, your sister. What I can't seem to figure out is why you don't think I deserve to know that my life might be in danger?"

"I had it under control." His voice was subdued and guilty.

"Really?" Isabel sighed, feeling the betrayal wash through her system. "When are you going to learn that you can't protect everyone against everything? That we would be safer if we were let in on your secrets? That knowledge gives us power. Gives us power to protect ourselves."

"I didn't want you to do anything hasty. I needed to think it through first. I was going to tell you."

"You didn't want Michael to do anything hasty."

His silence told her that she had been spot on in that assumption.

"We deserve to be part of these decisions, Max," Isabel said tiredly. "The path of our lives is not up to you to determine."

"You know what Michael's decision would be on this," Max said. "He only has one response; Flight."

"So what? It's still his decision to make."

"I'm not prepared to leave my home just like that. To leave our parents. Are you?"

Isabel closed her eyes and pinched her nose. He was not playing fair. He knew how much she adored their human parents.

When they had entered their teenage years, they had fought endlessly about whether or not to let their parents know about who they really were. Isabel had wanted to tell them, being certain that they would want to protect their children. Max had informed her that fear made humans do things out of character. Like turning their adoptive children into the government or the law enforcement.

"Of course not. But we have to know if our lives are being threatened. You must understand that."

"I do," Max sighed. "Believe me, I do. But I wanted to spare you that fear."

"I'm sure it all seems like a very noble act in your head, Max. But we're all adults here. It's not your job to look after us or make all the decisions."

"There's been a development."

Isabel was sure she felt her heart momentarily stop. Another development? What was this? The horror culmination of her life?

She was almost afraid to ask, "What?"

"I had another premonition."

Isabel couldn't help but exhale in relief. It couldn't be so bad then, could it? Could it? "But you saved Liz. Danger averted."

"This is a new one."

And the fear was back full force. Would his premonition foresee her own demise this time? Or Michael's? Or kill off Maria?

At her non-reply, Max continued, "Liz is to be abducted by the FBI and questioned about her knowledge of extraterrestrials."

"That sound a bit dramatic. 'Abducted'?"

"Held against her will."

"Max, you were certain that she wouldn't reveal anything about us. You said so yourself."

"They'll torture her for information."

Isabel inhaled deeply. _Why was nature so bent on destroying Elizabeth Parker?_ "So…what's your plan?"

"I want us all to meet up tonight. Michael wanted to talk to Liz, didn't he?"

"He won't be so inclined to speak to her after he finds out that there's a FBI agent on our trail," Isabel murmured.

"Have you told him?"

"No," Isabel sighed. "I figured he might do something hasty."

Max laughed and Isabel afforded to smile.

"Right." She could hear his smile in that one word, a 'thank you' for not telling Michael yet.

"But you have to tell him tonight," Isabel said. "Or I will."

"I'll tell him. But I need him to meet Liz first."

"Okay."

"Around seven?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Isabel answered. "I'll let Michael know."

* * *

_Max_

"Max Evans?"

Max stopped dead in his tracks, still breathless from the run he had just finished, feeling the clothes stick to his sweaty body.

Turning to face the voice, he had to search out his best hidden talents of masking his reactions as he came upon the owner of that voice. The anger hit him out of nowhere, knowing that this was the man that would possibly hurt Liz. It was not without any effort that he bit back the animosity burning through his veins.

"Yes?" His question was the right amount of questioning, his expression not revealing that he recognized the man.

The red-haired FBI-agent that had chained Liz Parker to a metal chair in his premonition gave him a thin smile and offered his hand. "Special Agent Joel Martin."

Max looked down at the hand for a second before grasping it in greeting. "What can I do for you, agent?"

He could feel the agent watching his every move, gauging his every reaction, but Max Evans had spent a lifetime hiding his feelings and thoughts. Reading Max Evans face would prove quite a challenge for Special Agent Joel Martin.

"I'd like to ask you some questions, Mr. Evans."

Max looked down at his training clothes with a sheepish smile. "Erm, now is really not a good time, agent. Could we reschedule?"

"It won't take long," the agent said, his eyes hard.

Max watched him through his long dark lashes, considering the right action to take. Postpone or just get it over with? It had only been a matter of time anyway before the agent would seek him out.

Max settled for casually shrugging his shoulders. "Well, agent, in that case I'll have to ask you to excuse the smell," referring to his sweaty attire.

The agent didn't seem amused, but gestured down the hall in the direction of Max's apartment door. "I don't mind."

"Right," Max said and turned his back to the agent, fishing around for the key in his pocket while thoughts were racing through his head.

The sweat that had started to dry on his body from the exercise was returning. At least the agent wouldn't be able to tell that his presence was in reality affecting Max Evans quite a bit, considering that Max was already sweaty.

Max unlocked the door and swung it opened, remaining in the doorway while he hinted for the agent to, "Step inside, Agent Martin."

Max removed the running armband around his bicep which carried his iPhone, the white earphones clattering against the tiled floor of the hallway as he disposed of it on the floor, while the agent moved passed him into his living room.

Continuing his act of trying to appear casual and not letting the agent see how his heart in reality was hammering in his chest, Max walked into the kitchen to retrieve a cold water bottle from the refrigerator.

"Take a seat, agent. Can I get you anything?"

Max watched the man out of the corner of his eye as he made himself comfortable on Max's couch. A couch which had borne witness to a lot of alien-themed conversations over the years.

"Just answers," the agent replied.

"Right," Max said, closing the refrigerator door and taking a gulp of water from the bottle. "I presume this has something to do with the girl I helped a couple of days ago."

The thin smile was back on the agent's lips as he watched Max take a seat on an armrest of one of the armchairs opposite the couch. "You are correct, Mr. Evans. I'm just tying up some loose ends here. Getting all the ducks in a row and making sure we're not missing out on anything."

"I'm a bit surprised that the Bureau is taking an interest in this case," Max said, screwing the lid back on the water bottle.

The agent's expression was polite, but his eyes remained cold, almost hostile.

_This man has already made up his mind about me,_ Max thought. _And he's not a big fan._

"There were some elements to the attack that were outside of the…how should I put this?" The agent smiled. "Outside the scope of _normal._"

"Huh," Max said, brushing at the bangs that were sticking to his damp forehead. "How's that?"

The agent leaned forward in his seat, putting his elbows on his thighs and etching his eyes into Max's. "Let's just cut the bull, Mr. Evans."

Max felt a chill down his spine, but showed it outwardly merely through a frown. "I'm not sure I'm following, Agent Martin."

"I would like you to know, Mr. Evans, that I'm armed and I won't hesitate to use deadly force."

Max felt the coldness spread from his spine into his chest. _He's afraid of me._ But Max also knew the appropriate response to such an odd statement.

"I assumed that FBI-agents were armed, but I never thought you made a habit out of going around making threats."

The agent narrowed his eyes. "I'm just evening the playing field here."

Max laughed and he couldn't help but notice how the agent jumped in his seat at the sudden sound. But he pretended to not have seen it. The agent was on edge, no need to put him any more on edge than he already was. Not as long as he was 'armed and wouldn't hesitate to use deadly force'.

"Agent Martin, you can't be serious? I have no intention of hurting you. For God's sake," Max made a show of looking around himself in the very ordinarily decorated living room, "even if I wanted to hurt you, what would I use as a weapon that would match up to your gun?"

"I know things about you, Mr. Evans. Things that give me a reason to be cautious."

Max felt the fake smile slip off his face, he couldn't stop it. The agent couldn't be fooled to make light of the situation anyway.

"And what would those things be?"

"I want you to tell me what you did to David Perkins, Liz Parker's assailant," the agent said, his hand moving to his waist.

Max noticed the agent's movement in the direction of the gun attached to his belt and how he paused to let it hover over it. Ready to take aim if Max suddenly would…What? Turn into a horrible alien, make shark teeth push out of his gums and bite the agent to death? Even though Max possessed powers, there was something ridiculous about the thought, about the agent's fear. Something that made Max lose respect for the guy, making the agent less 'scary' than what he had seemed in his premonition and in Liz's description of the man.

Max relaxed his stance and answered evenly, "I removed him from Ms. Parker."

"How?"

Without letting his eyes waver from the agent's face, Max answered, "I took a hold of his shirt and hauled him off. He ended up against the wall."

"It was quite a stretch from where Elizabeth Parker was," the agent pointed out and as Max felt his own forehead drying up he watched a drop of sweat roll down the agent's forehead.

"It must've been adrenaline," Max answered with a shrug. "I've read about that. How a surge of adrenaline can give you incredible strength."

"I've never heard of adrenaline giving you the ability to create energy fields," the agent said grimly.

Since Liz had mentioned that the agent knew about the force field, Max was not surprised at the question and hence could hide his response expertly. He raised one eyebrow calmly. "Energy field?"

"Mr. Perkins stated that you produced a green electrical field with your hand and it was this force field that pushed him off Ms. Parker. Not you directly."

"Hmm," Max said passively and let a smile slowly creep onto his lips. When the agent didn't add anything further, Max let the smile roll into a quiet laughter. The look he received from the agent was cold and hostile.

"Sorry, sir," Max smiled and unscrewed the lid of the water bottle to take another sip of water. "You actually believe that story?"

"I have my reasons to do so, yes," the agent answered tightly.

"If I were in Mr. Perkins situation, I'd probably try and wing the truth a bit too to get out of it," Max said.

There was a pause and the agent stared at Max. Max could hear the blood rushing hotly in his ears, but to Agent Martin he appeared the optimum of serenity.

"You were adopted as a child, correct?"

Max hesitated at the sudden change of topic. "That's correct."

"And you have no memory of your childhood before that?"

"Correct."

"In fact, you had no language, no social skills and there was no one to claim you as their biological child."

"That's all in the public records, Agent Martin," Max said, impatience seeping into his voice.

"What's not in the public records are statements given by the staff at daycare centers and your teachers concerning extraordinary events occurring in your surroundings."

Max felt the chill return and he could tell from the smugness creeping into the agent's expression that he had let it show. "What are you getting at, Agent Martin?"

"One teacher witnessed you picking up an injured bird which, after a couple of seconds, flew from your hands, as if nothing had happened. A Mrs. Krump at The Sunshine Daycare reports of you talking in tongues and even making a chair move by looking at it."

Max laughed. "Come on, agent. They were only rumors. A lot of people back then were…fascinated by my background - or lack thereof as you so thoroughly recited - and stories arose. What was I supposedly doing with that bird? Healing it?"

The agent rose from his seat and Max looked up, his eyes flickering to where the agent kept his gun, afraid that the agent might actually act on his previous threat.

Instead, the agent looked down at him with a face cut in stone. "You might've been able to fool a lot of people throughout your life, Mr. Evans, but you don't fool me. I _know_ who you are. Who you _really_ are."

"What am I, Agent Martin?" Max asked evenly, almost looking forward to the agent's answer.

"You're a manipulator," the agent answered and Max knew that was very far from what the man wanted to say. The more probable answer to that question started with an 'a' and ended with 'lien'. "You did something to that man that night. You did something to that bird and somehow you are involved with the miraculous recovery of a girl back in the 90's. A girl that now happens to be a friend of yours. And you might have been able to run under the radar undetected for a long time, but make one mistake, Max, and I will get you. I promise you that."

"Are you threatening me, Agent Martin?"

"You're a smart man, Mr. Evans. What do you think?"

And with that, the agent walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Max let his head fall into his hands as one shudder followed by the next and the next passed through him. The agent knew everything about him. Which meant that some branch of the government knew everything about him. Which meant that they could capture him at any time and make him disappear. Most likely, without a trace.


	36. Chapter 35

**CHAPTER 35**  
_Maria_

She watched the little wisp of dark-haired girl seated awkwardly at the edge of Max's couch. The girl was obviously not comfortable in the present company, but she didn't appear frightened. It was almost impressive how relatively at ease the woman appeared in light of what she had found out over these last couple of weeks.

And that was discounting the assault and the fact that Max was right now claiming to having foreseen the girl being tortured for information at the hands of the government.

But Maria's boyfriend was everything but impressed. He seemed certain that Liz would be the person to bring them all down as all their problems seemed to have started at the same time as Max's premonitions about Liz's assault. Consequently, _Liz_ was to blame, a logic that was very much Michael.

Maria repressed a sigh as she watched yet another of Max and Michael's heated discussions. They had yet to discuss Liz, the main reason as to why Max had called for yet another 'important meeting'.

Instead the conversation had started off by Michael accusing Max of not keeping his rescue of Liz under the radar, only to move on to Michael claiming that Max was putting them all in jeopardy and Michael wanting to leave Boston.

It had not helped Max's defense any when he chose that moment to tell Michael about the FBI agent. Michael had looked about ready to pack his bags as Max revealed that not only had the federal agent interrogated Liz but that he had also sought out Max in his apartment earlier today.

Judging from the horrified expression on Liz's face, she had been unaware of Max's meeting with the Bureau.

Judging from the look on everyone's face but Max's, this was the first time Max had told anyone about it.

Which had the effect of pushing Maria to line up behind Michael. Being approached by a man that her extraterrestrial friends had worked their whole lives to hide from was something you would tell the others in that specific group immediately.

"I knew we were all meeting today," was Max's line of defense. "Why call you all up separately and cause a panic?"

Isabel looked absolutely terrified and Maria could see tears in her eyes. Isabel rarely ever cried.

Isabel's voice was wavering as she said, "We have to leave, Max. Now. We can't stay here. He knows too much."

"You think we can hide? From the government?" Max questioned and glanced at Liz.

"We'll have to change our identities, occupations…" Michael started, but Maria couldn't listen anymore.

Putting her hands up, she rose from her seat. "Wait. Wait, stop."

Michael looked at her, his eyes frantic, but Maria only saw his fear. "Ria, we have to go."

"Think about this," Maria pleaded. "_Think_ about it. I'm not saying Max is right, but we have to think about this. We'd be changing our whole lives. There'd be no turning back."

"It would be worse if we ran," Max said quietly. "We'd look guilty."

"We _are_ guilty," Michael exploded. "We are aliens and we can do exactly what they are 'accusing' us of."

"Keep your voice down," Max hissed. "The walls are thin."

"What's so important about staying here, Maxwell, huh?"

Maria saw the quick look Max sent in Liz's direction and her heart clenched. Had Max finally found someone to trust? Someone to love? Just seconds before their world came crashing down?

"We have family. Friends. Work colleagues."

"I think they'd appreciate that you were alive rather than dead," Michael said coldly.

"You don't have any family," Max pointed out, his voice harsh and defensive. "You have Maria," he pointed towards Maria with an air that almost made Maria feel guilty about loving Michael, "Isabel and I have our parents. _Maria_ has her parents. This might be an easy decision for you, Michael, but the rest of us need time."

"If you cared enough about your family you would've told your parents about who you are," Michael stated evenly. "Why haven't you? Because you don't trust them, that's why. You don't trust them to not turn against you and hand you over."

"No," Max said, but Maria was certain everyone could hear how unconvinced he sounded.

"Michael, stop it," Maria begged. This argument was turning ugly, turning into personal attacks, and Maria (as the human bystander) could see Isabel curling in on herself, sitting quietly in the armchair. As if she was passively awaiting the verdict without having any power to affect it.

"Then who are you staying for? This girl perhaps," and for the first time Michael acknowledged the other human being in the room.

Maria watched Max's controlled facade crumble and feared for the outcome. Turning to Michael, she tried to avert the catastrophe, "Michael. Sit down and shut up."

She didn't have time to glory in the fact that she had made him look satisfactorily startled before she turned to Max. "Max, can I talk to you for a second?" Surveying the rest of the group, Maria added, "Privately."

Max looked like he didn't want to leave Liz alone, but Maria wasn't prepared to take 'no' for an answer. Turning soft eyes to Isabel, she added, "Isabel will look after Liz, won't you, Iz?"

Isabel nodded mutely, her eyes red with unshed tears.

Maria took a firm grip on Max's elbow and guided him into the bedroom. As she closed the door behind them, Max adopted a defensive expression even before Maria had a chance to utter a single word.

"Don't look at me like that," she admonished.

Max sighed. "I don't need a 'private' scolding from you, Maria. I know what you all think-"

Maria raised her eyebrows. "Oh, do you?" Was he a mind-reader now as well?

"-but I'm only trying to look out for you. And I really don't think that running is the best idea."

"I don't either."

Max wouldn't have looked more surprised if she had stripped naked and set herself on fire. "You don't?"

"Michael's a hot-head and you're a…cold-head. You're at two extremes of the spectrum. This is how I see it; you don't want to do anything and Michael wants action now. Both solutions are bad."

"I don't think we should sit around doing nothi-" Max started to protest, but Maria cut him off.

"Really, Max? You've known about the FBI agent contacting Liz for _three days_ and now is the first we hear about it. That same agent came to threaten you this afternoon and you didn't even consider rescheduling the meeting a bit earlier in light of those circumstances? Doing nothing is going to get you guys killed. Or at least captured."

Max seemed to consider her words as he tiredly sank down on the edge of the bed. At the air of defeat that was embracing him, Maria sighed and her voice grew gentle, "Is this about Liz?"

Max scrubbed his hands down his face and his voice was muffled behind his palms as he answered tiredly, "No."

Maria sank to her knees in front of him and put a hand on his knee. "You might be able to fool Michael out there, but not me. I see the way you look at her. The way she looks at you. There's something," Maria wet her lips as she fumbled for the correct description, "explosive about you. Something that we can't ignore. She's already a part of us."

Max shook his head. "She can't be."

"Max…" Maria said softly and peeled his hands away from his face. Meeting his reluctant gaze, she said, "It's too late. You can't go back. She already knows and she's part of this. She's in as much danger as the rest of us."

"Not if I leave her alone. Not if she denies any connection to us."

Maria scoffed. "And what about your vision? If that's a true sign of the future, they won't give up just because she denies knowability."

Her friend had a haunted look in his eyes as he looked at Maria. "I only wanted to protect her. Instead I've put her life in danger."

"She's not running away, is she?" Maria said softly. "Stop imagining what everyone thinks. Maybe she doesn't mind-"

Max laughed incredulously. "You think she doesn't mind having her life threatened?"

Maria's eyes turned stern. "That's not what I meant. I'm just calling it as I see it. She doesn't want to be very far away from you right now. She'd probably follow you if we decide to run."

"She's already made that clear," Max murmured, surprising Maria. Even if she had called him on his lie, she never would have thought that the discussion had already come up between Max and Liz.

"She wants to go into hiding with us?"

Max looked beautifully tormented. "She feels safe with me. She's convinced that she'll be safer from the government and the people out to get us if she's with us rather than away from us."

"She's right," Maria said.

"Ria, please-"

"No," Maria interrupted seriously. "I really think she's right. You can't protect her if you're not here."

"I've told her that I'll stay until the danger is averted."

"Then what?"

Max looked at her speculative. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe there will only be one threat. But what if you get another premonition after averting this one? Maybe you are destined to protect this girl and being away from her will make you go mad."

Max shook his head. "I can't rob her of a normal life. I'm already feeling bad about possibly doing that to Isabel and knowing that it's my fault that we're in this situation to start with."

Maria sighed. They had reached the root of the problem. "Max. You saved a girl's life. Don't ever feel guilty about that."

"I don't feel guilty about that."

"No, but you believe that saving her life inadvertently lead to suspicions being raised about us."

"Didn't it?"

"From what you just told us, the government have known about you for awhile. If they hadn't found something concrete on you now, maybe they would have in a month or two years from now. It was unavoidable."

Maria could sense his hesitation. To Max, it was much easier to just take the blame instead of admitting that things were out of his control. That things were happening according to a pre-set destiny.

"So what do _you_ think that we should do?"

She had pulled him in here to confirm her suspicions that Liz was the reason he didn't want to leave. That even though he claimed to want out of her life, he couldn't leave her unprotected. But it was also because Max was being cornered out there. Michael had that effect on him. Max got all defensive and no proper decision could be made. At least not without upsetting Michael.

"I have an idea." She got to her feet and held her hand out to him. "Come."

He inhaled deeply and took her hand.

Together they left the safety of the bedroom to face the rest of the group.

* * *

_Michael_

It had been decided that they would leave.

But Maria's plan had been to do the preparations slowly and thoroughly. In the cunning way of the love of his life, Maria had come up with an option that served as a middle road for him and Max.

Max wanted to sit on his hands and do nothing while Michael wanted to run as fast as he could. Preferably right now.

But Maria had a point; they still had time to do this properly. To set up a decent life for themselves with other identities, which hopefully would be a more stable life than the one they were bound to have had they left in a hurry.

That didn't mean that Michael wasn't restless or that he was less aware of the green flashing sign on top of his head screaming 'GET YOUR ALIEN HERE'. He felt like his every step was being watched and it was not just paranoia. A federal agent was on their trail, which made plans to go into hiding more painstaking. They had to be very careful in everything they did from now on.

"Michael."

He turned to his girlfriend who had just exited the bathroom and felt a chill sweep over him. She was pale; a sickly version of his normally very exuberant significant other.

He took a step towards her. "Are you okay?"

She started nodding, only to seem to change her mind in the middle of it and start to shake her head in a negative instead. "No."

He approached her and put a hand to her forehead. "Are you sick?"

She looked nauseous, which put him very much ill at ease.

Her cold hand grabbed his gently and tugged on it. "Come with me."

He found himself immersed in the hotness of foreboding as Maria led him into the bathroom. With a gesture towards the sink, where a plastic rectangular object was positioned, she started talking, "I'm late. About twenty days late. I guess I was in denial. The timing couldn't be worse. I've been feeling queasy and-"

Maria's voice faded to the background of his consciousness as he stepped up to the sink and lifted the plastic object. It was not like it was rocket science. He knew perfectly well what he was holding in his hand and judging by the breathless babble of his girlfriend behind him it wasn't hard to guess what the two lines in the small indicator window meant.

"-didn't even think it was possible to-"

"You're pregnant," Michael breathed, putting an abrupt halt to Maria's nervous rant.

He couldn't look at her. He kept staring at the pregnancy test, his vision blurring at the edges. Was this how it felt like before you passed out?

Her voice was very quiet and weak, very un-Maria, as she answered, "That's the fifth pregnancy test. They all show the same thing. I guess it's not definitive, but yes, I think I'm pregnant."

There was a clattering sound as the pregnancy test hit the sink and Michael had to grab the edge of the porcelain to steady himself.

_Pregnant._

"Breathe, Michael," Maria said gently behind him, but he could still detect the fear in her voice.

_She's just as scared as I am._

He tried to follow her instructions and forced a breath in through his nose. His vision focused for a second, so he took another deep breath. In and out. Slowly, in and out.

"Michael…"

He closed his eyes. He had never heard her sound so small, so vulnerable. He instantly hated it. Hated that he had in some way contributed to making her feel that way.

Turning to face her, he took one glance at her tear-stricken face before he pulled her against his chest, tightening his arms around her body. He rested his lips in the cloud of her blonde hair and squeezed his eyes tightly closed. A baby.

"Are you okay?" he whispered against her head.

"Not really," came her muffled answer.

He took another deep breath and shuffled them to the toilet seat. Sitting down he pulled her onto his lap and she curled up against him. He kissed her forehead before leaning his forehead against hers.

"I never…I didn't think we could…" he was struggling to say the right words, because even though he was not known to be the most level-headed and eloquent guy, he recognized that this was a fragile situation that they would remember forever. He couldn't mess it up. "I never knew we could have babies."

"I know," Maria whispered and moved to look up at him. Her movement had him opening his eyes and he stared into those green depths to her soul.

God, he loved her. He would follow her to the end of the world if he had to.

"Do you want to keep it?" He realized that they had never had the discussion. If they were pro or against abortion. Hell, they had never even discussed having kids period. They just hadn't thought it was possible, that they were biologically or genetically compatible. But because they knew very little about Michael's origin and genetic make-up, Maria had at times been on the pill and sometimes they had stuck to using condoms, just to be safe. But on the other hand, they hadn't been that worried if they had forgotten to use protection once or twice; the 'risk' of them becoming pregnant had been deemed minimal.

Or not.

"I don't know," Maria said softly and lowered her eyes. She was absent-mindedly playing with the collar of his shirt, tears running silently down her cheeks. "I mean. What if it's abnormal?"

Her word stung, even though the thought had occurred to him as well. It was just so much harder to hear it out loud that something that was the product of their love could be abnormal. Just because he was abnormal.

"Yeah," he said, reaching a decision. "We should…maybe it'll be for the best if we…"

"No, Michael," Maria interrupted when she read where his thought process was going. "I don't want to kill it. It's our _child_. We'll do sonograms and whatever, to figure out if it's healthy."

He shook his head at the enormity she was painting. At the complexity of their situation and the hopelessness in that his Maria wouldn't be able to go through a normal human pregnancy. "We can't do that, Ria. What if something is wrong? They will have records of it. We can't do this the normal way."

She let out a strangled sob and his arms tightened around her torso. "I want to keep it, Michael. It's _ours._ I don't care if it's not right. All this time I could only dream that I'd be able to share something like this with you and now it's happened. I can't get rid of it. I can't."

"Shh shh," Michael hushed gently, wiping at the flood of tears on her cheeks. She stilled and looked up at him again and he managed a small smile, even though he was terrified. "We'll figure it out, okay? Don't worry."

A light switched on in her eyes and Michael's heart clenched at the brief glimpse of the Maria he knew. The tenacious and persistent version that he loved.

"You sure?"

He nodded, and with a finger below her chin he angled her mouth up to his. Kissing her gently, tasting the saltiness of her tears on her full lips, he tried to show her that he loved her completely and that nothing would get in the way of that. "We'll be okay."

She smiled and he seemed to have abolished some of her fear. "Okay."

But his own fear stuck with him.


	37. Chapter 36

**CHAPTER 36**  
_Alex_

"Long time, no see." Maybe the statement was a bit harsh, but Alex couldn't stop the bitterness from spilling out when he opened the door for his friend Liz.

She smiled at him guilty and opened her mouth to say something when he noticed a faint discoloration over her nose, across her cheek. Like an almost non-existent bruise. Or a very old bruise.

"Jesus, Liz. What happened?"

She closed her mouth again and the guilty expression returned. "Can I come in?"

"Sure, sure," he said quickly, stepping to the side to let her pass. He took the coat off her frame and couldn't stop himself from staring at her as she brushed her hair back and surveyed the apartment.

"You've redecorated," she noted with a faint smile.

He wouldn't let her beat around the bush on this one. "What happened to your face, Lizzie?"

She started worrying her bottom lip and entered the living area of his apartment. "I'm sorry I haven't been in touch, Al, but it's been… a couple of crazy weeks."

"Did someone hit you?" He was following her slender shape into the dimly lit living area, noticing that she still looked thin, still appeared frail.

"I have a lot to tell you," she said quietly and sank down on his sofa.

"Okay," he mumbled apprehensively and took a seat next to her.

She folded her legs underneath her and after a deep inhalation of air, she started telling her story. Of how the man that she initially been afraid of at work had attacked her on her way home one evening. How he had tried to rape her and possibly even kill her. How the brother of one of her colleagues had happened to be close by (what were the chances?), had heard her distress call and come to her rescue. She assured Alex that her assailant was in custody, awaiting trial.

Liz went on to offer reasons as to why she had been MIA these last couple of weeks and told stories of this tight-knitted group of friends she had become involved in.

But the oddest thing was how she finished her story-telling, "Just, don't tell anyone that I'm hanging out with them."

Alex frowned. "Why's that a secret?"

"The investigators of the case are trying to claim that Max was in on the assault or something. They're trying to make it sound as a negative thing that I knew Max beforehand."

Alex was confused. "Why would that be a negative thing?"

Liz shrugged. "Beats me. But apparently David has been telling really weird stuff about my rescue, trying to make it sound as if _he's_ the victim. That Max abused him or something."

Alex could feel the heat of anger ignite again from having temporarily cooled since he first learnt that Liz's life had been threatened. "Well, he had it coming. Had it been me, he wouldn't have been alive right now."

Liz smiled at him fondly. "Thanks, Alex. Let's be glad it wasn't you then or you'd probably be up for a murder trial right now."

There was a silent pause before Alex murmured, "Fuck," rose to his feet and pulled aggravated hands through his bushy brown hair. "You could've died, Lizzie. What the hell is wrong with the world? It was not even night, for Christ's sake! It happened in the early evening!"

She grimaced. "I know."

He inhaled deeply, trying to get his emotions back in check. Turning to her, he looked at her grimly. "I'm just grateful that you're alright. That _someone_ heard you. Even if those fuckwit investigators are trying to hold it against you. What are they thinking anyway? I thought the law was on your side here? And you even got a witness to collaborate your story!"

Liz nodded. "Yeah."

Alex frowned at her lack of response. "Aren't you upset? I'm not the one having been assaulted here, but I feel betrayed by the system."

She looked tired all of the sudden, averting her eyes. "What can I do about it? I've done everything I can to explain the event, to express to them how grateful I am to Max and how David Perkins is lying, trying to save his own ass. It's out of my control."

Alex clenched his fists. "Have you got a lawyer?"

She looked guilty again and it wasn't like solving the problem of world starvation to figure out why. "That's kinda why I'm here."

He ignored the fact that she was here for a favor, rather than hanging out after weeks of nothing. Not a phone call, an email, nothing. He tried to ignore the sting of her needing his father more than her friend. "I'll ask him."

Her expression turned relieved. "Thank you."

* * *

_Agent Joel Martin_

"Joel."

Agent Martin looked up from his computer screen at the young man, Andy, standing in the doorway. Andy was one of Joel's good friends, as well as colleague.

Joel frowned at Andy's hurried appearance. "Yeah?"

"Boss wants to see you." There was something incredulous in Andy's look and Joel matched that feeling. It was not every day you were called into the Assistant Director's office.

"Right now?" Joel tried not to let the nervousness show. He had a feeling what the meeting was going to be about. It was not like he had spent the last couple of weeks researching data, like he normally did.

"Yeah," Andy nodded and gave him a strange look as Joel rose from his seat and passed him. "What did you do, man?"

Joel remained cool and shrugged nonchalantly. "It's probably just about my investigation."

"Sure," Andy nodded, unconvinced.

Joel decided that the conversation had reached its natural end and left the office to head down the long corridor, paneled with dark wood and photo frames depicting important FBI-persons. While getting into the elevator that would bring him up a couple of levels, he considered the speech he had been preparing these last couple of weeks. Because he'd always known that this day would come. He had, after all, not exactly been following protocol.

Before entering the adjoining office to the director's office, Joel took a deep breath and let it rustle through him before turning the handle on the glass door.

The blonde secretary look up and the words froze on his lips as she said without preamble, "AD Jackson is expecting you, Agent."

He swallowed the words with a sheepish smile and nodded. "Okay."

After a quick rap with his knuckles against the door, Joel entered into the impressive office of his superior.

Assistant Director Stephen Jackson was an impressive man, as impressive as his office. He had lost almost all the hair on his head, the remaining strands were shaved off every fortnight. His face was angular and strong, with deep-seated dark blue eyes and a slightly crooked nose, which had been broken five times already. The man was not overweight, but his size gained immediate superficial respect. As an old boxer, he was stocky with previously well-trained muscles. Gaining his position within the Bureau had cut back on his weight-lifting, but he still had to pump iron at least four times per week.

Some might call it an addiction, Stephen Jackson called it an essential part of living.

"Agent Martin," AD Jackson said, his intelligent eyes following the younger agent's walk into his office. He inclined his head towards one of the large leather armchairs on the opposite side of his mahogany desk. "Please. Have a seat."

"Assistant Director Jackson," Joel acknowledged politely and took a seat, refraining from putting his palms against the armrests, fearing that his hand sweat would leave moist imprints against the leather. Instead he placed his hands on his lap.

"I'm going to cut right to the chase here, Agent Martin," AD Jackson's voice was deep, making Joel think of a lion.

"Of course, sir," Agent Martin said.

The assistant director looked down at a folder in front of him. "It's come to my knowledge that you've been using a lot of the Bureau's money on traveling lately. Well, perhaps not _a lot_, but more than you are supposed to in your position. Trips to Boston, apparently. But according to our colleagues at the Boston field office, you didn't spend a vast amount of time there. So…" The director's eyes were digging into Joel as he closed the folder and leaned back in his enormous chair. "What have you been up to, Agent Martin?"

Joel cleared his throat, "Well, sir. Actually, I've been investigating a case…"

His superior raised one eyebrow in curiosity. "Is that so?"

Joel hesitated, knowing that the man was trying to bust him. "I know that I wasn't supposed to-"

"Aha," AD Jackson nodded, folding the muscular arms, as big as tree trunks, over his chest.

"- but during my regular assignments I came upon some suspicious activity which I couldn't ignore."

AD Jackson chose not to comment on this, his bright eyes unnerving.

"I suspect you know about the Mogul Project, sir," Joel continued.

The director's response was to wordlessly lift one eyebrow and Joel felt increasingly unsure of himself due to the silence his superior was giving him. In a way, it would have been easier if he had been yelled at. As it was now, Joel had troubles reading AD Jackson's reactions.

"Well, I've found information pertaining to that project, of unusual activity involving certain individuals, whose…" Joel stumbled on the word, "earthly status could be questioned - _should_ be questioned, sir."

"Aha," the assistant director voiced.

Joel unconsciously wrung his hands on his lap. "There are reasons to believe that these individuals possess…" Joel licked his lips in the search of the appropriate term, "_abilities_ that could threaten our national security. I saw it only as my duty to investigate it fu-"

Assistant Director Jackson held up one silencing finger, cutting Joel's monologue straight off. Joel swallowed as the director leaned forward in his chair with a sigh. "Agent Martin. Do you realize the trouble you've caused?"

Joel swallowed and leaned forward in his seat to defend himself. "Sir, I-"

The director held up his finger again, his eyes burrowing into Joel disapprovingly. "As one of the arms of the government, we have certain obligations to the American people. We are to uphold the law and protect human rights." The director paused and sighed tiredly, "We are _not_ to fuel the public's possible conspiracy theories nor are we to bring suspicion to the tasks of the Bureau, indirectly damaging our reputation. Which could mean that we, in the future, might find it hard to carry out our job if the general public distrusts our role in their society."

"But sir, I-"

AD Jackson slowly shook his head, cutting off Joel anew. In a cold voice, he said, "You'd be wise to hold your tongue, Agent Martin."

Joel felt the shade of mortification spread up his throat and across his face, an apology ready on his lips, but afraid to voice it.

"Going around accusing human beings of having a questionable…" The director frowned. "How did you put it?" Before Joel could answer, the director filled in, his lips tight, "…'earthly' status is a ridiculous thing to do, which doesn't only put the Bureau in jeopardy but makes me question your sanity, Agent Martin, and if it would be appropriate for a person like yourself to continue his work here."

"Sir, I-"

The director cut him off again. "You are _not_ in a position to carry out investigations on your own, agent. And even if you wanted to, you have to clear it with me first." Taking a deep breath, the director released Joel from the grip of his gaze and opened the folder in front of him. Picking up a pen, he glanced up at Joel, "So… who have you talked to during this investigation of yours? Where exactly have you been and did this investigation of yours actually end up somewhere?"

Joel hesitated before he told his superior everything. He told of the interviews with Elizabeth Parker, Max Evans and David Perkins. He told of the case concerning Elizabeth Parker and the awaiting trail. He told of the question marks in David Perkins' account of the incident and of Max Evans' unusual background. He talked about the recovery of a girl named Maria DeLuca and the suspicious upbringing of Michael Guerin and Theresa Harding. He confessed to have surveilled Theresa Harding, but without finding anything significant to the case.

When he was done talking, the assistant director being quiet throughout the whole account - only occasionally writing a word or two in the folder - Joel Martin's superior looked at him with speculative eyes for a very long minute before closing the folder in front of him.

"Agent Martin." He seemed to hesitate, a motion that looked out of place on the confident large man's face. "You will be reprimanded for breaking the rules. I should really suspend you, but I agree that there are details to this investigation of yours that doesn't add up. As I mentioned before, it is of vast importance to the Bureau to protect the citizens of America by seeing to it that justice prevails. It is therefore just as important that we follow up on any possible suspicion of," the director licked his lips, as if the following word tasted badly, "foreign activity. Maybe these…individuals only have unusual abilities. But since there is a small risk that they are not entirely human, we must investigate further."

Joel was shocked. He really hadn't expected the assistant director to believe him, let alone take him seriously. He had mostly fought to not lose his job, but it seemed that the Mogul project was indeed still alive and even though it wasn't generally known to his colleagues at the Bureau, the people further up the chain seemed to be very aware of the purpose of the project.

"I will not forget your insubordination, Agent Martin. You will be reprimanded as deemed fitted after this case is closed. But for now, you'll be put in the delicious limbo of having to wait," the director almost smiled and Joel swallowed a grimace of unease. "A man will be contacting you, Agent Martin. You will _not_ pursue any more investigations on your own and are to pause your efforts until you've been contacted. Is that understood?"

Joel nodded mutely.

"Good," AD Jackson said, raising from the chair and extending his hand. "I'm looking forward to your report, agent. It shall, if nothing else, be an interesting read."

Joel swallowed and forced a thin smile onto his lips. "Of course, sir. Understood, sir."

* * *

_Max_

Don't Run Yet.

Max stared at the piece of note in his hand.

_Don't Run Yet._

Ice was slicing through his body and he reached for the envelope which had contained the note. Nothing. Turning it over and over, he still found nothing on the envelope. No sender. No recipient. Someone must have put it directly into his mailbox.

Someone that knew of their plans.

_Tess._

He relaxed somewhat as soon as the name entered his mind. Maybe it was just Tess. Even though they didn't really trust her yet, she was still one of them. Which was a better scenario than having a stranger knowing that they were planning to run, because that might mean that said stranger also knew about them - who they were.

He fumbled for the phone in his back pocket and scrolled through his contact list.

_Tess Harding._

Dialing the number and waiting for Tess to pick up, he turned the small piece of paper over and over in his hand, getting increasingly paranoid by the second.

"Max."

He started at the voice, ripped from his disastrous trail of thought. "Tess. Hi."

"I didn't expect you to call," the voice answered, turning softer by each syllable. "But I'm happy you did."

"Did you send me a note?"

His abrupt out-of-the-blue question was answered with a moment of silence before, "What do you mean?"

"I've got an unmarked envelope in my mailbox containing a one-sentence note."

"What does it say?" her voice had changed from borderline sultry to analytic and demanding.

Isabel had been placed with the task of informing Tess of their plans of running away at the group's latest meeting. Even though none of them really knew Tess, she deserved to know their plans since it was alien-related. Max hoped now that Isabel had completed her task and Tess was in the known. Otherwise this conversation would take much longer.

"'Don't run yet.'"

"Hmm," Tess scoffed and her lack of confusion confirmed that Isabel had done her job. "Do you recognize the handwriting?"

"It's written on a computer."

"Maybe we could get a DNA-sample from the glue on the envelope," Tess suggested and Max had a completely other type of chill run through him. He wondered, for not the first time, how much Tess knew and her methods to attain the knowledge.

Max lifted the envelope again and noticed the Scotch tape along the seal. "It doesn't appeared to be licked. It's taped."

"Fingerprints on the tape," Tess offered.

Max held the envelope up to the light to observe the tape strips. They seemed clean. No residues of oily fingerprints. "I can't see any."

"Huh," Tess said.

"So I presume it wasn't you," Max filled in.

"You thought it was me?" Tess asked.

"Yeah."

"Why go through all the theatrics when I could just call you? Besides, I'm kinda with your obtrusive friend Michael on that one; I think running as soon as possible is the best option."

"Isabel talked to you?" Max asked, mostly as a means of confirming his suspicions.

"Yeah, she let me in on your discussion," Tess said reservedly. "And I told her that I'd think about it. But having thought about it, I don't see anything holding me here, so I'm in. Whenever you decide to make a run for it, let me know."

Max didn't feel particularly elated about the news, but he wasn't surprised either. Besides, she deserved to be a part of the group. He couldn't seclude her on the basis that she hadn't been part of their group from the start.

"Especially since you're getting mysterious notes. Sounds like someone is trying to keep you here, possibly to increase their chances of capturing you."

Max had thought about that. The probability of the note having been written by an enemy was much greater than it having been written by a friend. "Yeah, the thought has crossed my mind."

"Well, I didn't write it. So maybe you should take it up with your _group_," Max didn't fail to notice her sarcastic tone, "and get back to me in case you opt for leaving sooner rather than later."

Without a word of goodbye, the conversation was disconnected, leaving Max staring at the mysterious note.

_Don't Run Yet._

* * *

_Isabel_

"Are you serious?" she looked at Maria's face hopefully. "I'm going to be an aunt?"

"Something like that," Michael said from the kitchen, referring to the fact that they didn't really know if Max, Isabel and Michael were actually biologically related.

Maria ignored Michael's input and nodded, fresh tears brimming in her eyes. "Yes. I peed on like seven thousand sticks."

Isabel felt pure joy spread throughout her body, which erupted in a high-pitched squeal before she grabbed Maria and hugged her tightly. Even though Isabel couldn't see them, she was almost certain that Max and Michael shared an eye roll at the girls' behavior.

"Is it safe?" Max asked seriously, which put an immediate damper on Isabel's joy.

She pulled back from Maria and lovingly put a strand of blonde hair behind the ear of the girl who was carrying her niece or nephew. "Of course it's safe. It's the way of nature."

"Well, _our_ way of nature might not be the same as humans," Max pointed out and Isabel felt irritation grow in her pool of happiness.

Snapping her eyes to her brother, she said tensely, "Don't ruin this, Max."

"It's okay, Isabel," Maria smiled at her gently and looked up at Max. "Of course we don't know if it's safe. We don't know if it's a normal baby or even if I'll be able to carry it to term."

Isabel glanced over at Michael, who looked certifiably nervous. Noticing Isabel's look, Michael interjected, "If we notice that the baby is hurting Maria in any way, we'll abort it."

Max seemed placated by this. "Okay."

"Really?" Isabel inquired, looking at Maria's face closely. "You sure? What if you won't be able to make that decision in 3 or 5 months?"

"I'll make it for her," Michael said and his voice was the most determined Isabel had ever heard it. She looked at Michael and realized that he wouldn't let anything hurt Maria. Not even his own child.

"We want you to do the checks, Max," Maria said softly.

"We can't take her to the doctor," Michael clarified even though he really didn't have to. They all knew that secrecy was pertinent in this matter.

"Of course," Max answered with a small smile.

"You'd be the perfect mid-wife," Maria said, lighting up and Isabel had to hold back a giggle at the paleness that slammed down on Max's face.

"Wait a minute… I didn't agree to _deliver_ the child," he stammered.

Isabel and Maria laughed. Even Michael looked amused.

Walking up to Max, Michael dunked Max good-heartedly in the back. "You'll do just fine, Maxwell."

But Max looked ready to faint, which had Isabel fold her arms around the middle against the pain her laughter was starting to cause her. It was good to laugh. Especially after the last horrible weeks they've been through. This baby was already doing them good.


	38. Chapter 37

**CHAPTER 37**  
_Max_

He looked at the red-brimmed eyes of his colleague with concern. "Are you okay?"

She looked away self-consciously and rubbed at her eyes. "It's nothing."

Max frowned. "You're sure? If you need to talk-"

She met his eyes and smiled, the smile an odd contrast to the vacant mournful expression in her eyes. "I'm fine, Max. Thank you."

He gave her a second look and couldn't help but worry. His EMT partner was the pillar of strength. He had never seen her break down, even though they'd had their fair amount of emotionally devastating call outs. She was normally the epitome of intelligence and calmness, of serenity. This was a side of her that he had never anticipated to encounter.

"Do you want me to drive?"

Melissa hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, thank you."

They jumped into the ambulance and Max stole a glance in her direction before igniting the engine. Something had happened. Something terrible. Melissa had never been very open about her family or friends, of anything outside of work. Maybe someone close to her had died.

As he turned onto the street, Max hoped that she might change her mind and confide in him, giving him a chance to perhaps ease her sorrow.

* * *

_Liz_

What do you pack when going on the run? What do you pack when going into hiding from the government with a group of aliens? She was pretty sure those questions wouldn't come up on _Jeopardy_ any time soon. She looked at the picture frame of her parents that she had just put on top of her suitcase.

"What do I tell _you?_" she asked the photograph of her father. Her father, with whom she spoke almost once per day. Her father that, since the death of his wife, Liz's mother, seemed to live for his daughter. He had lost a lot of the friends he had shared with his wife, burying himself in his work until his daughter had called him out.

She had to tell him something. Leaving without a word would destroy him. She let her fingers wander across the framed photograph as she dialed Max's number.

"Liz? Is something wrong?"

She smiled at his concern and at the warmth it spread in her body. "I need to talk."

"Sure," he sounded relieved. "What's up?"

She bit her lip. "I need to see you."

"Liz…" he said with a twinge of warning.

"I know," Liz whispered. "It's not safe." She looked at the smiling face of her father next to the smiling face of her mother in the photo. They looked so young, so happy. "But I need to see you."

"Are you okay?"

She hadn't realized that she was crying until he called her upon her quiet sniffles. Embarrassed, she wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to clean her voice from the signs of sadness. "Could we meet somewhere? Somewhere safe?"

He sounded regretful, "There's no such place." There was a pause and Liz hoped that he would give in, even though she knew that it was foolish of them to meet in person. People might be watching.

"I don't want to talk about this over the phone." Could mobile phones be tapped? Liz closed her eyes tiredly. When had she started to exhibit paranoid tendencies?

"I'll be right over," Max said quietly. "Leave your bedroom window unlocked and turn off your bedroom light."

"Okay," Liz whispered. "Thank you."

He disconnected the call and she pressed the phone to her chest, wishing that time would speed up so that the twelve minutes it would take him to get to her apartment would only be twelve seconds.

11 minutes later, there was a gentle rap on her bedroom window. Feeling like a teenager who was about to let her secret boyfriend into her bedroom after hours, Liz pushed the window open. Max climbed through with ease (as if he'd spent a lifetime covertly crawling through girls' windows after the fall of darkness) and straightened up to his full length in front of Liz. Before she had a chance to utter a syllable, he had mildly taken a hold of her chin and guided her face up towards his. An uncontrolled tremor rushed through her, spreading goosebumps in its wake at the touch.

"You okay?"

She nodded mutely, large eyes staring at his troubled face. He appraised her face for a long pause before he seemed to become aware of the threshold he had crossed and abruptly let his hand fall away from her face.

"Good," he mumbled and turned to close the window.

"I'm sorry for calling you out here," Liz whispered, her mouth suddenly dry.

He turned back to face her, his facial features soft. "Don't apologize."

She didn't know she was worrying her bottom lip until his thumb came up to cover her mouth. She froze, her lungs stilling.

"Don't," he whispered, his face a breath from hers.

"Sorry," she said automatically and his finger slipped from her lip. She could smell him all around her, making the recommencement of her breathing more difficult. His eyes were piercing, the dimness of the bedroom casting dark shadows across the lines of his face.

"You wanted to talk to me about something," he breathed and she tried to get her mind to work again. She felt flushed, heat pumping through every inch of her body.

"You're packing? Already?" His eyes never left hers, so she wasn't sure when he had noticed, but she managed to get her head to move in something similar to a nod.

"Yeah." She swallowed, trying to clear her throat. "I want to be prepared."

A small smile started to play at the corners of his mouth and Liz forgot to breathe again. "The plan is to not leave suddenly. You'll have time to pack."

But there was a shake of uncertainty to his voice, telling Liz that he wasn't telling the whole truth. She decided to let it slide. For the moment.

"I just want to be prepared," Liz repeated and realized what she had said, hinting that she wasn't ready to leave her life here. Hit with embarrassment she dropped her eyes.

"Hey," Max murmured, a finger under her chin guiding her eyes up to meet his again. "Are you sure you want to come with?"

_Now more than ever,_ she thought as she nodded. She couldn't leave him. "That's what I need to talk to you about." A veil came down in his expressive warm golden eyes and Liz hurried to add, "I'm coming with you, I just…"

He relaxed and took a step back, substantiating what she had suspected; he wanted her to come along as much as she did.

She gestured towards her open suitcase and the piles of clothes on the bed. "What do I tell people? How do I explain why I'm leaving?"

He got an uncomfortable look in his eyes and turned around to close the drapes to her windows. She watched him in silence, unconsciously biting her lip again. After pulling the last drape, Max went to switch on the small lamp on her bedside table. It cast a meager light across his face as he sank down on the edge of her bed.

"I don't know," he mumbled and there was something tormenting across his features.

"I don't know if I can fake my own death," Liz said quietly, wringing her hands nervously. "I couldn't do that to my father. He's already lost my mom. I don't think he can lose me too."

His eyes were filled with anguish and sorrow as he looked up at her. "Whatever we decide to tell him, you might never come back. Once we leave, you might as well be dead to the people you leave behind. On paper, you won't be _you_ anymore."

Liz could feel tears forming at the back of her eyes and she looked skywards, damning her emotions. She had promised herself that she wouldn't break down. She wanted this. She wanted to leave with Max.

"I know," she said weakly, trying to control her voice. "But anything would be better than him thinking I'm dead. If we'd only have communication over the phone in the future, that's fine. Even if I'd go under another name. As long as he knows I'm alive."

Max looked at her for a long second before saying quietly, "I can't guarantee that. You have to understand that, Liz."  
She understood that. Of course she did. Didn't make the decision any easier though. She was choosing between family and love. Normalcy and insecurity. Human and alien.

Max's words filled in the silence. "You don't have to decide yet. It's a big decision. You're not forced to do this. Not like the rest of us."

"But I'm in danger. Just like you."

He looked away and Liz watched the muscles in his jaw contract. "We'll find another way to protect you." He looked back at her. "You shouldn't be forced to do this."

How could she explain to him that she desperately wanted to go with him? How could she show him that the dilemma was not if she wanted to go, but of the people she was leaving behind?

Deciding to momentarily steer away from the topic that was making him uncomfortable, Liz posed, "How about I go on a lengthy trip around the world? Join the circus? Join the space shuttle program?" He offered her a weak smile, so she pressed on, "There must be a thousand reasons to supposedly drop off the Earth without having to 'die'."

"Yeah, but even if you were to join the circus, you'd have to exist. There would have to be records."

"Only to the bureaucrats," Liz insisted. "This is what I would tell my family, my friends; that I've joined the circus or whatever." She sank down next to him on the bed. "While in reality, on paper, I would not exist."

Max seemed to contemplate this. In silence he reached out for her hand resting between them on the bed and took it gently in his hand. She held her breath.

Max looked up at her and nodded, "It might work."

She didn't know that she had so much invested on his agreement before he threw her a bone and she felt her whole body relax. A shuddering laugh of relief escaped her. "Good."

He nodded absent-mindedly, his eyes returned to their hands as he slowly moved his thumb back and forth against the soft patch of skin between her thumb and index finger. "Maria's pregnant."

His announcement was so quiet she was unsure that he had actually said what she believed he had said. "Sorry?"

Max looked up at her, concern etched into every facet of his expression. "Maria and Michael are expecting."

Liz frowned, but couldn't stop the feeling of elation deep inside her womanhood. "How's that… Is that even possible?"

Max shrugged with a wistful smile. "I guess so."

"That's great, isn't it?" Liz asked tentatively, trying to gauge his reaction. Should she be happy or sad about this piece of information?

Max nodded, squeezing her hand. "Yeah. It's a miracle, really. We never thought we could reproduce."

His assessment was clinical at best, but it left Liz with hopes of the future. She couldn't stop her mind from going places. She couldn't stop herself from entertaining the thought that she might someday bear the child of the man holding her hand right now. Which was a ridiculous notion, since they were only friends. But there was a look in Max's eyes as he was watching her for her reaction to the news that made her suspect that Max feelings were not that platonic either.

"That's incredible," Liz whispered.

"It means that we have to move a bit sooner," Max said. "We want to be settled and certain that we are safe before the baby comes. Besides, we don't even know if this pregnancy is going to be normal. If the child is going to arrive sooner - or later."

"Right," Liz nodded and looked down at the interlaced hands. "How much sooner?"

"We have to leave in four weeks. Maximum."

Liz felt her heart hammering against her ribs. A month. Four weeks to say goodbye to her life.

"But…"

She looked up at his uncertain interjection and prompted, "But what?"

"I've received a note from an anonymous source."

Liz unconsciously squeezed his fingers. This couldn't be good.

"I've discussed it with the guys and I even asked Tess if she knew about it, but no one has any idea where it came from."

"What did it say?" Liz said thinly.

"'Don't run yet'," Max answered.

Liz felt a chill run through her. "And you don't know who wrote it?"

"It could be a friend or a foe," Max answered, watching her closely.

"Either someone that wants to keep you here for good reasons or bad," Liz filled in.

Max nodded. "Exactly."

"Can we afford the risk?"

Max shook his head desolately, "Not now. Not when Maria's pregnant."

"So we have to leave? Soon?"

"Within the month," Max confirmed.

Liz looked around the disarray of her pre-packed bedroom. "Maybe it's not too soon to start packing then."

Max lifted their joined hands to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles. She felt her mouth go dry.

"Don't worry. I won't come and suddenly whisk you away in the middle of the night", he said. "You'll have time."

Liz locked eyes with him, one single clear thought running through her mind, _Please, whisk me away in the middle of the night._


	39. Chapter 38

**CHAPTER 38**  
_Alex_

One day she was just gone.

She had handed in her resignation (effective immediately) at her work and by the time Alex realized her absence someone else was already living in her apartment.

No good-bye, no forwarding address.

She had told her father that she was going on a long journey around the world and that she would keep in touch but that the messages might be far between depending on where in the world she was at the time.

Why hadn't she told him? He considered himself her best friend. Was it because she had feared that he would sense the holes in her story and call her on her lie?

She was bound to miss the trial of her own assault, risking that the man might walk free. It didn't sound like something Liz would do. She was too concerned with the well being of others to risk that man getting back out on the streets.

But the weirdest detail was that the woman Liz had been working closely with at her office, the woman whose brother had saved Liz from being raped, had also disappeared. Around the same time as Liz. She had handed in her resignation about two weeks prior to Liz. And that wasn't even the end of it. After some additional digging, Alex had found out that Liz's savior, one Max Evans, and his friends Maria DeLuca and Michael Guerin had also disappeared around the same time. They all belonged to the 'group' that Liz had told Alex about. The group of new friends she had acquired. The group he was not allowed to speak of.

Now they were all missing - without a trace.

Alex could only come up with one plausible explanation: Liz had joined a cult and run off with them. For this, Alex could only come up with one plausible solution: He had to find Liz and rescue her from being brainwashed any further.

* * *

_Liz_

They were going through cars like a chain smoker was going through cigarettes.

Sometimes they were crammed into two five-seater cars, sometimes into SUVs or minivans. Even though emotions tended to run high when people were crammed together in too close quarters, the mood had for the most part remained high. This, Max had told her, was because Michael's mood remained good.

Michael was finally letting go of his fear of being watched, oddly enough on a trip with the goal of them going into hiding. According to Max, Michael had been restless for a long time and he had been searching for a reason for them to move much earlier. But without any real incentive, Isabel, Max and Maria's connections to their families had won out and they had stayed in Boston for most of their lives.

As she watched the surroundings pass outside the car window on their way along Interstate-90 West, she couldn't help but reflect over the detour her life had taken.

Shy of three months ago, she had started her first job fresh out of architectural school. Still on a joyous high from landing her dream job, the law-abiding Elizabeth Parker who could count on one hand the number of times she had jaywalked, had been attacked, saved by an alien, investigated by the FBI, and joined a mission to go into hiding from a threat from her own government. It all sounded like the plot to a bad movie.

Maybe she had foolishly followed her heart on this one, because to be painfully honest; had she not started to feel an interest for Max Evans she probably wouldn't have even entertained the thought of leaving home.

After following her head her whole life, being guided by her heart was for once not a bad thing. Her father had always wished that she would find a 'nice young man'. Of course, if Jeffrey Parker had found out the unusual traits of this 'nice young man' that Liz had chosen, he might have changed his wish.

Liz glanced over at Max at the wheel. It was rare for her to be seated in the passenger seat. Because of her small size, she was usually chosen to be crammed into the backseat, letting the tall people like Isabel and Michael take turns on riding shot-gun. But last night they had changed from a minivan to two sedans, which meant that Max, Liz and Tess was in one car and Maria, Michael and Isabel in the other.

Liz glanced to the backseat, where Tess was asleep with her head against the window. Tess hadn't said much in total during their 'road trip', but when she did she had a tendency to sound tense and dominant. She usually spoke up when she wanted to correct someone or when plans about where they were going was on the agenda.

Liz tried not to judge Tess' character prematurely, but it was hard to not feel something of a dislike to the girl. Compared to the other members of the group, Tess appeared cool and lacking empathy. Possibly, she was hardened by living her life on her own. But Liz couldn't deny that her feelings of animosity towards the girl mostly stemmed from Tess' flirting with Max.

Liz guided her eyes back to the scene outside the car window as she corrected her thoughts grimly. 'Flirting' was too kind of word. More like 'seducing' him in active 'pursuit'. She knew, logically, that she didn't have any claim on Max. They were not in a relationship.

Still, it hurt. It hurt to see Tess touching Max more frequently and more easily than Liz could will herself to. Liz was too polite, too sexually reserved to take liberties like Tess did. Liz was not used to having to fight for a man's attention, instead more used to _fighting off_ unwanted male attention.

But sometimes Liz felt as if Max was only hers. Sometimes she imagined that he was looking at her in a special way, when he thought she didn't notice. Sometimes (like now), she could feel the heat of his contemplative eyes on the side of her face and she couldn't help but wonder if he had the same feelings for her as she had for him. In the naive optimistic thinking of a girl falling heavily in love with a boy, she'd imagined that it would be easier to get to know Max when out on the road, isolated from the rest of the world.

But instead it had proved more difficult.

At night, they were logically and sensibly divided up in female and male rooms, with the exception of Maria and Michael who always stayed together. The majority of their time awake was spent driving, which meant that they were never really alone. Liz hadn't spoken to Max privately since that night in her bedroom when he had held her hand and promised that they would find a way to break the news of them leaving to her family without hurting them.

"You okay?"

His question startled her out of her heavy thoughts and alerted her to the fact that a tear had tumbled down her cheek. Thinking of her dad always tempted her to tears.

She glanced at him with a forced smile, restricting herself to a quick peek of his face, knowing that his concern might just throw her into a real crying episode. "Yeah. Just thinking."

There was silence again and then she felt his fingers flutter against the back of her hand. She looked at him in surprise and his open expression seemed to beg for her approval to let him hold her hand. She swallowed and grabbed his warm hand, immediately feeling the aching loneliness diminish in her chest.

"You've been very quiet lately," Max said softly.

She looked down at their interlocked hands and observed how well they seemed to fit into each other. Like two pieces of a puzzle.

"I miss my dad," she whispered and choked on a sob. Pressing the back of her free hand against her mouth, she tried to stop the tornado of sadness that was threatening to overwhelm her.

She couldn't look at him, because she could hear the sad concern in his voice, "I know you do. You don't have to be strong, you know. If you need to cry, do. No one would think any less of you."

With closed eyes, she shook her head and her voice didn't even sound like her own as she croaked, "I can't." With a quick gesture in the direction of Tess' sleeping form, she hoped that Max understood what she was trying to say.

That she couldn't appear weak in front of Tess.

The squeeze of his fingers around her hand told her that he had gotten the message loud and clear.

"I'm in awe of you," Max whispered, but loud enough to be heard over the consistent hum of the car engine. "And the rest of us are too."

He wasn't making it easy for her to prevent a mental breakdown. All she wanted was to break down in tears and be comforted by him. To have him utter nonsensical assurances like 'Everything's going to be okay' and 'You'll see him soon enough', because it would momentarily make her feel better.

"You left your family too," Liz said quietly, wiping at the silent tears.

"Yeah," Max answered. "But we've had a lifetime to prepare for that eventuality. You haven't."

She had never considered herself to be the strong one. Quite frankly, she felt like a lovestruck, whimsical teenager who would follow her latest crush anywhere (even though she knew that this was not a simple_crush_). She had looked down on herself with something akin to disgust for not being rational about this life-changing decision. For being uncharacteristically irrational.

Seeing herself through Max's eyes made her feel slightly better about her decision, but she was still beating herself up about leaving her family. About leaving Alex. Leaving Alex had left a bitter taste at the back of her throat. Their departure had in the end been hasty as they had received another anonymous note which had scared them all into action, and Liz had not had the time to say goodbye to Alex. Something she couldn't quite get over.

"When would it be safe to make contact?" Liz asked, hoping for a positive answer.

She could feel Max fumbling for an answer that would spare her feelings, she could feel it vibrating in the space between them through whatever connection they might have since he brought her back to life as a child.

"Phone calls can be traced. Stamps on postcards… We have to find a safe way first."

She nodded, sniffling. She knew the facts. Still they hurt.

"Liz," he prompted.

She looked at him, seeing the warm sympathy on his face. Certain that he had her attention, Max continued, "You can still go back. I can drive you to the next airport and you can take a flight home."

Liz's sobs turned into a short laugh, surprising herself more than Max. "Sorry. But…" she smiled at him, "Sometimes I wonder if you really want to get rid of me. You keep bringing it up."

But he was serious when he replied, "I never want to hold you against your will." Keeping his eyes on the road, his voice dropped to an almost inaudible softness, "Nor do I want you to leave."

Her smile softened and she brought their joined hands up to her cheek. Pressing the warmth of his hand against the softness of her left cheek, she whispered, "Thank you."

In the backseat, the eavesdropping Theresa Harding tensed.


	40. Chapter 39

**CHAPTER 39**  
_Special Agent Joel Martin_

It was not possible for six individuals to fall off the face of the earth. Unless, ironically, they had _left_ Earth, which might not be that far-out-there considering what Agent Martin's files on the individuals were telling him. There were strong parallels to be drawn.

Agent Joel Martin had been contacted by Agent Powell, from the Special Unit (also known as the Mogul Project) just a couple of days after having been reprimanded by AD Jackson. Agent Powell had been intrigued by the details of Joel's illegitimate investigation and had immediately cleared the investigation under his name, enabling Joel to continue looking into the suspicious individuals. Even though Agent Powell was in charge, he was currently tied up somewhere else. To Joel's surprise, the agent had left him as second in command, acknowledging that Joel had done a fine job so far and was more than equipped to continue.

They had discussed what further measures could be taken to gain more information and Joel had initially been shocked at the methods suggested by Agent Powell. Apparently, the Special Unit ran by different rules and regulations than the rest of the Bureau. Apparently, the unit ran by different rules and regulations than the rest of the United States. Agent Powell had been fierce in his account of how the main priority was to protect the nation from threats, even if it might cause harm to an individual person. There was always going to be collateral damage, he had pointed out.

Their latest meeting had entailed going through the specifications of a truth serum which had been tested by the military. Apparently, it had great success at suppressing the memory after the questioning, which was an important development considering that their methods of interrogation differed somewhat from nationally approved methods. After all, they needed to cover their tracks.

Unfortunately, Joel had gotten the report in his hand four minutes earlier about his suspicious subjects having disappeared without a trace, which made his previous curiosity turn into frustration. No way that those individuals were going to get away when he had finally got a break at the Bureau.

"I'll find you," he said under his breath to the report.

* * *

_Max_

He was extremely aware of Michael's eyes on him as he carefully pulled Maria's shirt up to uncover the lower part of her abdomen. Max could tell that his friend was nervous, gripping Maria's hand with both of his.

"Relax, Mike," Maria murmured and turned her head to look at Max. "So…how do we do this?"

Max smiled at her softly as he put the palm of his hand against Maria's skin. He felt nervous himself, especially with Michael's eyes on him. Max's eyes were drawn to Liz, standing to the far side of the room. Her arms were folded over her chest and she was biting her bottom lip. He forced himself to look away, to focus on the task at hand.

"Max?"

Max shook his head to clear it and met Maria's eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry." He took a firm hold of Maria's eyes and told her to, "Keep your eyes locked with mine. This whole time. Okay?"

"Is it okay if I blink?" Maria attempted to joke, possibly feeling weighed down by the seriousness of the room's occupants.

Max smiled at her, aiming to put her at ease. "It's nothing big, okay? I'm just gonna connect with the fetus. But to do so, I have to go through you."

Something guarded fluttered into Maria's eyes and for a moment she looked scared. "Will it hurt?"

A year had gone by after Max had healed her from her cancer, before she had told him how it had felt. About the sensation of how she had been sure that she had been drowning and her inability to pull air into her starving lungs. The experience had frightened her, even if it had resulted in her cure. She had waited 13 months to tell him out of fear that he would think she was being ungrateful about him saving her.

He hadn't thought her to be ungrateful, but had rather blamed himself for not making the experience easier on her. He hated himself for making her have to go through that. With several years between that conversation and the situation they found themselves in on this day, Max had gradually been able to put it behind him.

But her question brought back all those old feelings of guilt and he swallowed to not let it show on his face, to not make her unsure.

He shook his head and put on a mask of firmness. "No. I promise you, it won't."

Max felt Michael's wordless gaze trained on his face, but chose to ignore it. He was usually grateful for Michael's protectiveness of Maria, but that same safeguard was suffocating him right now. In a way, he wished for Michael to leave the room, so that he could focus more fully on Maria. But of course, he couldn't ask for that.

"Okay," Maria said softly and pushed a wobbly smile onto her lips. "Let's go then. I'm ready."

Max grabbed her free hand and gave it a squeeze. "Okay. Remember, keep your eyes on mine."

Her smile was more natural this time as she nodded. "Stare into your eyes. Got it."

Max saw her squeeze Michael's hand out of the corner of his eye, before he let himself fall into Maria's eyes. He didn't need to know the person to form a connection to them, but it helped. The connection hooked and opened immediately and he found himself - in a matter of speaking - inside Maria's body.

He felt the warmth of her blood supply prickle through his body, heard the steady drum of her heart in the background, felt the nervousness tingle and squeeze her stomach and the pressure of Michael's hands against Maria's left hand. He brought his attention to where his own right hand was attached to Maria's skin, focusing his powers right there, right on her uterus.  
At first he didn't sense anything but the steady pulse of the slightly enlarged uterine arteries.

The flutter against his senses, like the soft flutter of a butterfly, gave him an surprised start. He hadn't known what to expect; had never done this to a pregnant woman before.

To the outside observer, Max was just looking into Maria's eyes.

But Max wasn't seeing Maria.

He was looking at the embryo in her womb, with a proportionally large head due to how early in the pregnancy it was, and a heart that had just started beating approximately 2 weeks prior. The embryo wasn't moving much, having basically just started to straighten out some from its earlier developmental stages, but he could already see the shape of a human being. It was, however, too early to say if there was anything abnormal about the embryo's appearance.

All embryos looked alien anyway.

He pulled away from the uterus and did a quick check on Maria to make sure that her body was handling the pregnancy before he broke the connection with a gasp.

* * *

_Liz_

Liz was in awe. She had tried to stay as far away from the small group as she could, squeezing up against the wall, because she didn't want to intrude.

This was _their_ moment, Maria and Michael's.

Isabel was standing pretty close, but she was family. The only other, except herself, staying away was Tess. She was seated on the sofa, having put her legs up over the armrest, playing some game on her mobile phone. She didn't appear the least interested in what was transpiring around her.

Liz couldn't understand how one wouldn't want to watch this. Watch the gentleness of Max's touch on his friend, the strong trust in Max's abilities radiating off Maria and Michael in waves, and the anticipated look on Isabel's face - like a girl on the dawn of Christmas.

But nothing could prepare her for the fact that the constant connection between her and Max would let her take part of when Max told Maria to keep her eyes on him and fell silent. Just like everyone else in the room, she could see Max grow still, deep concentration on his face as he kept Maria's gaze locked with his. But she was the only one, except for Max, who could suddenly feel someone else's blood stream through her vessels, hear the distant heart beat of Max's friend, and through something like an inner eye - like thoughts made into images that were playing into her mind - she could see what Max was seeing.

Not the green irises of Maria's eyes, rather the developing fetus in Maria's uterus.

She gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth, as she watched the small heart flutter quickly in the center of the embryo and it's small legs and arms move minutely. She was still trying to recover from the experience as Max left the uterus, did a quick scan of Maria's body and the connection slammed shut.

* * *

_Maria_

She hadn't felt anything.

Well, nothing bad, like the last time Max had formed a connection to her.

This time she had only felt Max's warmth, his compassion and care, and his nervousness about the task at hand. She had felt his brotherly love for her (he felt like a brother to her most of the time) and his concern that something might be wrong, but she had also experienced a constant feed of his emotions while he searched her body. How his worry calmed, the elation he had felt at one point during the connection and his calmness just before he had pulled back, blinking dazedly.

"You okay?" she asked immediately as she noticed him disconnecting.

He smiled at her, took a deep breath and then leaned forward to place a kiss on her forehead. "Everything's fine."

She read the the extra information he was giving her and felt her resolve break. _Damn those hormones. _

"It's okay? Everything's okay with the baby?" she whispered and finished her questions with a sob.

Max nodded, his thumb stroking her forehead tenderly, and Maria felt Michael squeeze her hand.

"It's a healthy 7 - possibly 8 - week old baby," Max answered and Maria started crying in earnest. The relief was all-consuming.

She looked at Michael and when she saw tears in his eyes she broke a little bit more. She didn't think she'd ever seen Michael cry. When their eyes met, Michael leaned in and kissed her. His lips tasted salty with tears and his eyes were starting to get brimmed with red as he pulled back slightly to meet hers.

In a whisper, meant only for her, he said, "It's going to be okay. Everything's going to be fine."

She nodded and took her free hand, the hand Max had just let go of - probably to provide them with some privacy - and brought it up to Michael's cheek. Cradling the stubbly cheek of the love of her life, she mumbled, "I love you." Her voice broke when she repeated, "I love you so much."

"I love you," he answered and kissed her again.

* * *

_Liz_

"I need to do some shopping," Liz said as the group settled into a comfortable discussion on the topic of baby names. It was when the discussion started to brush upon names as E.T. and Ripley that Liz decided to make a break from it.

The rather elated and humorous setting of the topic took a sharp left-turn into grave sobriety as five sets of eyes turned on her in abrupt silence. She almost shied away from them, even though none (well, except for Tess) appeared accusing or intimidating.

"You can't go alone," Max said cautiously.

"Max should go with you," Maria said with a smile, winking in Max's direction.

Liz was pretty sure that Max had spotted the wink as well and that was the explanation behind the blush spreading across his cheeks; a blush Liz was sure she herself was currently sporting.

But this was one of those very rare moments that she would rather not have Max - or any male - with her, since her shopping included intimate items.

"Maybe someone else…" she started but Maria waved her off.

"Nonsense," she said, "Isabel's been itching to have a girl's night with Tess. Haven't you, Iz?"

Isabel didn't miss a beat, making it impossible for Liz to discern if her reply was earnest or not. "Yes." She smiled genuinely. "Finally."

"You don't mind, do you Max?" Maria asked in a dangerously innocent tone.

"Of course not," Max said quickly. Almost too quickly. Liz felt hesitation and a coldness hit her as she studied the angle of his set jaw, the sharpness of his profile. She got the feeling that he didn't want to be 'alone' with her.

"Take your time," Maria smiled while sharing a loaded look with Isabel and giving Max a shove in the back.

"Bring us something to eat too," Michael said. "Preferably pizza."

"Sure," Max said and didn't bother to ask for pizza requests. After all the pizzas they've eaten these last couple of days, everyone knew each other's preferences by heart.

Max stopped in front of Liz and she felt his presence like a warm curtain around her. One side of his mouth was raised in a lopsided grin as he looked down at her. "Ready?"

She returned the smile, but sensed an apprehensive energy around him which made her unsure of his smile. Why was she suddenly nervous?

"I'm sorry for dragging you along," Liz said as they entered the mini mall. "I'm sure shopping is not on your list of favorite Thursday evening activities."

They were in a standard mall, making their way through the crowd of people. Around them people were talking, laughing, eating ice-cream, playfully shoving their friend as a topic brushed on shameful gossip. Mothers were pushing kids in prams and distractedly retrieving pacifiers that were thrown to the concrete floor while talking to their female friend on the smart phone squeezed between their shoulder and ear. A small boy, five or six years old, got pulled harshly by the arm of his mother who sharply scolded him for not listening to her.

All around them, people were going on with normal lives, with normal problems, none the wiser that they had an alien walking amongst them.

She was dressed in a hoodie with her hair hidden underneath a reddish wig, while he wore a loose-fitted sweater, covering his dark hair with a baseball cap. They were trying to stay under the radar.

Max spent the evenings going through 'Most Wanted' sources and newspapers, trying to keep up with information that might be released on them. Right now, they were only on the 'Missing People'-list, which didn't give them a criminal status, but was enough to make people notice. Trips to malls were few and far between.

Liz barely avoided stepping into a dropped ice cream cone on the floor as Max answered her, keeping his voice light. "Isabel has taught me well over the years. I consider myself something of an expert at waiting outside of stores and holding shopping bags."

Liz smiled, feeling the tension ease a bit. Even though she needed to get tampons (something that she was still getting around to telling him) it was good to be on one-and-one with Max.

"Phew," she said with theatrical relief. "Feels good to be in such able hands."

He laughed. It was good to hear him laugh. He didn't do much of that. Especially not around the rest of the group. They continued their playful discussion while Liz tried to work up the nerve to tell him to wait outside while she got the items.

She was naturally too embarrassed to be accompanied by him during that purchase.

Her multitasking at trying to figure out how to tell him while keeping up with the conversation was cut short as Max suddenly looked behind them (as if something had told him that he was being watched) and froze. "Shit."

Max moved so quickly she didn't have the chance to turn around and see what he had reacted to. He grabbed her by her chin and pulled her face (rather roughly) back towards his. With a hushed, "I'll explain later," he pressed his lips against hers.

Liz froze, her whole body growing still. Time seemed to slow and dim, the sounds of the busy mall were muted as if she was being immersed under water. Only to snap back into focus a second later to let her feel every infinite touch. How his lips were capturing her bottom lip, tugging on it in a similar fashion to how she usually worried it and how his fingers crept into her hair (correction: wig). She wished that she could feel the tips of his fingers against her scalp, without the synthetic bottom of the wig being in the way.

His touch was gentle, his lips soft but firmly pressed against hers. In the midst of his gentleness, she could feel a restlessness, a simmering power in the pressure of his fingers against her head. Struggling to hold himself back.

He slowly let go of her bottom lip only to gently line up his upper lip with hers and her bottom lip with his, letting his tongue gain access to her wanting mouth. Her hands were between them, having unconsciously slid up over his chest, over his heart. She could feel the thumping of his heart, feel the energy of his fast pulse underneath the sensitive tips of her fingers, echoing through his shirt.

His thumbs were stroking her cheeks, angling her head from one side to the next, dictating his ministrations. Her hands continued their explorative journey, circling around his shoulders to grab onto the top of his hard, well-defined biceps.

He was tasting her upper lip when she became aware of the need for oxygen. Her whole body had frozen in anticipation, forgoing the most basic bodily functions; like breathing and keeping the heart pumping. She could taste his breaths as they breathed across her lips, claiming her oxygen as his.

She felt herself entangled in warmth, like a body of heat that she couldn't place. It was coming towards her in waves and for a second she suspected that it might be Max. That it was Max's feelings blending with hers through that impossible bond they seemed to have.

Just as abruptly as it had started, Max pulled back and she inhaled sharply. He leaned his forehead against hers, breathing heavily, his hands still cradling her face, thumbs pressing into the softness of her blushed cheeks. Her fingers were gripping tightly to his shoulders, digging into his skin, trying to catch her breath. Running after her emotions.

The continuous heightened hum of the environment around them was turned on full blast, as if someone had brusquely upped the volume on a stereo to the max. But even with the noise of happy shoppers around them, she couldn't miss his whisper in the little cocoon that was still wrapped around them, his face only an inch from hers. "Sorry."

_He's apologizing._

Liz looked up at him, feeling dazed and distrusting her legs to be able to hold her up. She was surprised to hear that her voice sounded more collected than she felt as she asked, "What was that for?"

Max pulled back and she felt the coldness push between them like a hard unrelenting bricked wall. Suddenly he seemed miles away.

He looked around them and sighed in relief. "They're gone."

"Who?" the intimate feeling was quickly dissipating in light of the adopted paranoia of the last couple of weeks of her life.

His hands slid down her throat slowly, his eyes following the trail with something akin to reverence. She held her breath until his hands came to rest on top of her shoulders and he returned his eyes to hers. "There were police officers."

"Oh," Liz frowned, still not sure why he had kissed her. Not that she minded. She would accept any reason at this point. She couldn't really pinpoint the emotion behind his flickering gaze, behind the tension in his body. Discomfort?

Max continued in a hushed tone, "A kissing couple makes people uncomfortable; makes them look away. Hides us in plain sight."

"Oh," Liz said again and blushed with embarrassment. It had been a means of survival, not because he_wanted_ to kiss her. The explanation made her feel stupid. Like a naive love-sick puppy.

"You okay?" he asked, removing his hands from her shoulders, not only pushing a wall between them but also reinforcing it with steel.

She nodded, still not finding her words, coldness numbing her in a way she had never felt before. _Rejection._She felt rejected and betrayed, even though she couldn't rationalize it. Couldn't blame Max for doing the right thing to protect them. Even if it meant awakening feelings inside of her, fueling emotions she had tried to keep in line since she had met him, only to stomp them down by apologizing for it.

He cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the next. She could feel his searching eyes on the top of her bent head. She was looking at a piece of dry gum that was stuck to the floor. So dried and old that it was no longer sticky.

"Let's get your things and the pizzas and get out of here."

She sighed, feeling her heart breaking, and answered under her breath. "Right."

"Hey," he said gently, his voice calling for her to look at him. She did as much, regretting it the second she met the sadness and guilt in his eyes. "You okay?"

Her cheeks spasmed in an attempted smile. A smile that hurt in its deceit. "I'm fine."

She dropped her eyes again and his gaze seemed to burn a hole into her scalp.

"Okay, let's go."

"Sure," she mumbled.

They were enclosed in the masses of the people and he seemed so far away as they let strangers walk between them, separating them by several feet. She knew he was following her with his eyes, could hint the slump of his shoulders out of the corner of her eye, but she couldn't offer him any more assurance that everything was okay. Because it wasn't. He had kissed her and she had come alive. Then he had apologized, used an excuse for everything she had felt, and now she was fighting the burning tears.


	41. Chapter 40

**CHAPTER 40**  
_Max_

"Max. Max. Max! Wake up."

At her shake of his body, the fog of sleep lifted from his mind. He was usually not a heavy sleeper, but he had been having troubles sleeping lately and when he finally managed to fall asleep he slept deeply and completely. Now his eyes were blinking against the darkness of the night, a dim silhouette of his sister's face above his.

"Isabel?" he croaked and automatically wet his sleep-dried lips.

"It's Liz."

That's all it took for him to become 110% awake, adrenaline to pour out from his adrenal glands and cold sweat to nip at the edges of his hairline. He pushed the cover off him and stood up, hastily retrieving his shirt from the floor next to the motel bed. "What's wrong?"

Isabel had taken a step back from the bed, her arms hugging her waist, her face looking white in the dim light from the street lamp outside the window. "She's dreaming."

Max felt his heart slow somewhat, a damper being put on his adrenaline. He had, naturally, feared the worst. The same thing he feared every time they came to wake him. That Liz had been taken, fulfilling the premonition at the hands of the federal government.

"Where is she?" he mumbled, pulling his arms through the sleeves of the shirt while he started for the door.

"Max," Isabel said softly, putting a hand on his arm.

He paused, one hand on the door knob. "Iz…"

"I can't do this anymore. None of us can. We need to sleep. I'm exhausted."

Max closed his eyes, leaned his forehead tiredly against the closed front door and mumbled, "I know."

It had been going on for over a week. Liz shared a room with Tess and Isabel. It was easiest that way; them all being girls and most importantly, avoiding the problem of anyone sleeping alone. Except for Max. Max had been sleeping alone, being the odd man out.

But it was now the eight night in the seventh motel that Liz had woken everyone up with a nightmare. No one, except for Max, had managed to pull Liz out of the nightmares. Which had contributed to not only the girls' lack of sleep but also Max's.

"Where is she?" Max asked again, softly and resigned.

Isabel's reply matched his resignation. "In her bed."

He ripped the door open and crossed the carpeted yellow lit hallway to the room opposite his. As he opened the door, he spotted Tess sitting in her bed to the left, bathed in the soft glow of one switched on bedside lamp. There were two single beds to the left side of the square room, perpendicularly positioned to the large windows which were hidden behind heavy dark green curtains. To the right was a couch, which had been pulled out into a bed, in which Liz was sleeping.

Although, 'sleeping' would be an inaccurate term.

Her arms were restlessly moving back and forth to flare up and down next, as if she was fighting an invisible creature. The blanket had been kicked to the floor and the T-shirt she was sleeping in had ridden up by her movements, exposing her pale stomach and back. Max could feel Tess' eyes on him as he approached the makeshift bed.

"We can't wake her up," Tess informed, a sour sting to her voice.

He kneeled next to the couch, noticing the beads of sweat on Liz's forehead, the restless mumbling of her lips, the tears down her cheeks and the whiteness of her knuckles as her hands fisted in her shirt.

"Liz," he said softly, putting a hand to her forehead.

Her head jerked away from his touch and she twisted so that her back turned against him.

"You're killing him," she whispered brokenly and Max fought to not let her words pull him in. He had come to understand that her nightmares were frightening and vivid, which made him feel helpless.

He put his other hand against the lower part of her bare stomach, applying a gentle pressure to try and make her grow still.

"Liz, come back to me. Wake up." His voice was soft, like he was trying to win over the trust of a wild animal while his right hand found its way back to her forehead.

Her eyes opened with a snap, much as they always did, seemingly catapulting her from the nightmare. Her eyes were moving in a rapid horizontal manner as Max watched the awareness slowly creep back into her body and felt her body relax beneath his touch. He slowly removed the hand from her bare stomach, trying not to think of the longing in that touch (he was having a hard time forgetting the feel of her lips against his), but kept his hand on her forehead, letting his thumb gently brush at the damp tresses of her hair that were stuck to her forehead.

"I'm sorry," Liz breathed, her eyes connecting with his. Then she started crying and Max felt every sob tear painfully at his heart.

"It's okay," he mumbled and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

His lips touched her skin and as his eyes drifted closed at the taste of her, he felt her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into her. He placed another kiss at her temple, before leaning back while pulling her with him.

She gathered against him, her tears wetting through his shirt, his arms coming around her now shivering body. The floor felt relentless against his knees as they held him up, but he barely noticed.

He reached down to his left and retrieved the blanket. Letting go of her and letting some space in between them, her pulling her hands up between them to cover her face, he draped the blanket over her shoulders and pulled her close again, letting his arms hold the blanket to her body in an embrace.

* * *

_Tess_

She was certain that Elizabeth Parker was making it all up.

Liz knew that Max would come to her rescue if she appeared to be in pain. She was playing on Max's sympathy, on his empathic weaknesses. Why else could Liz not be roused to consciousness by neither Isabel nor Tess, only Max? There had to be a catch, a part of Liz's agenda to win Max over. Tess had seen how Liz looked at Max. It was not hard to miss those lovesick puppy dog looks.

But Max Evans belonged to Theresa Harding. Max was an extraterrestrial. So was Tess. Liz was not. Max and Tess shared a similar origin, they were practically made for each other. Even though Tess didn't have proof of this, she had her instincts, and they were telling her that Max and her were destined to be together. He was not destined for a _homo sapiens._

Tess felt darkness claim her, hot and searing, as the jealousy rolled through her. It was a foreign concept to her. She had always been able to take what she wanted when she wanted it. But Max was difficult. Max was not open to her regular methods of seduction. Or maybe it was just Elizabeth Parker that was standing in the way, confusing Max.

She watched as Liz clung onto Max's body, desperately and pathetically, and felt like throwing up. In the doorway, Isabel had yet to close the door behind her, as if ambivalent about if she should enter or leave the room. The light of the hallway created a halo around Isabel, emphasizing her height and power.

Tess squinted at her thoughtfully; there was almost something regal about Isabel in her silence. Tess traced the direction of Isabel's gaze back to Liz and Max and felt her hands tighten in fists. All this attention on this one tiny brunette. What was the deal with this girl? Surely, Isabel must be as fed up with Liz as Tess by now, since Liz had not let them sleep through a single night since they'd left Boston. What would it take for the gang to kick Liz to the curb? She was not one of them. What would it take to make them realize that?

"Maybe you should stay with her during the nights from now on," Isabel said, her suggestion chilling Tess to the core.

Tess swung her head back to Isabel, seriously considering if Isabel had lost her mind.

"I don't think that's such-" Tess started, but Max cut her off mid-sentence.

"Maybe I should," Max answered. "You guys need to sleep."

"You need your sleep too," Tess objected, fearful of the direction in which the conversation was heading. Max was _not_ staying with Liz. No way. "Out of all of us, your control over your powers is the strongest. We need you alert and rested in case something would happen."

"I'll sleep alone," Liz said behind Max, her voice muffled by her tears as she scooted up against the wall. Tess looked at the girl in surprise, expecting Liz to be the last person to agree with her.

"No," Max said firmly.

"You _all_ need your sleep. I'll be fine."

"She'll be fine, Max," Tess interjected, watching Liz wipe the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand.

Max ignored her and returned his attention to Liz. To Tess' annoyance, she had to watch Max take Liz's hand and speak to her gently, "You're in danger, Liz. It's not safe to leave you alone."

"Tess is right, Max," Liz answered quietly. "I'm jeopardizing the well-being of this group. We have to be alert all the time, we can't afford to be sleep-deprived."

_See_, Tess wanted to say, but kept her mouth shut.

She couldn't be too vocal about this. It might raise suspicions as to why she was so intent on keeping Max and Liz separated.

Instead she silently watched how Liz avoided Max's eyes, pulling her hand out of his. Tess had reflected over this dance they seemed to be doing after each one of Liz's episodes. When pulled from her nightmare, Liz appeared fearful and in the grave need of Max's proximity.

But as soon as she had calmed down, Liz pulled away, as if Max's touch was suddenly doing her more harm than good. Max didn't show any signs if he'd noticed, but Tess wondered - every single time - what had happened between Max and Liz to cause that behavior.

She was a bit anxious of the answer; fearful that their behavior might mean that they had engaged in something intimate having caused awkwardness. But how that would even be practically possible was beyond Tess. Neither of them had been alone for more than five minutes since going on the run. Which meant that someone would have heard if they'd had a fight.

Still, it worried Tess. It would be much harder to put a wedge between Max and Liz if they had already crossed some lines and attached strings. Max's voice brought her out of her pondering.

"I'm not backing down on this," Max said. "Maybe we should take shifts, rotate people who stay with you."

Tess could see irritation flash in Liz's eyes. It was not a common emotion in Liz Parker's repertoire, which only further emphasized to Tess that something had indeed happened between them.

"Really, Max," Liz said tightly, "I don't want to be a bother."

"You're not," Max said evenly.

There was silence as Max and Liz seemed to have a silent dialogue that involved only their eyes. Tess refrained from rolling her eyes as she watched them and instead laid back, pulling the covers up her body. "Well, I'm going back to sleep."

The voices around her grew hushed as they continued their conversation, but Tess couldn't keep her eyes opened any longer. With a silent hope that Liz would win this one, Tess drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Special FBI-Agent Joel Martin_

His colleague threw a USB flash drive on Agent Martin's desk. It skidded across the wooden surface, over the edge and came to rest in a fold of Joel's black dress pants.

"Take a look," the other agent encouraged, nodding towards the storage unit on Joel's lap.

Joel grabbed the USB and plugged it into his Macintosh. Going through the usual folders, Joel double-clicked on a folder called "CC_100314", which was the only folder on the drive. Inside it were several subfolders all named different titles running off the main folder's name.

"What's this?"

"Surveillance footage from Cornwall Centre in Regina," the agent answered. "Look at the sequence called 'CC_1003141614ee' in that folder." The agent pointed to one of the subfolders and Joel followed his instructions, clicking up a silent video file of a busy shopping mall.

"See anyone you recognize?" the agent hinted as Joel leaned closer to the screen, scanning the shoppers for familiar faces.

He was just about to shake his head, admitting that he didn't see anything amiss, until he caught the sideway glance of a medium-height young man next to a red-haired short girl. The image was blurry and medium resolution at best, but there was something in the hurried and nervous look of that man that had Joel look closer.

"Is that…?" he mumbled, letting the question drift off as he narrowed his eyes at the girl. She seemed familiar.

"Wait for it," his colleague said just as the young man in the recording leaned forward and kissed the girl.

"We have to be sure," Joel said, staring at the screen, waiting for the confirmation that his colleague obviously had witnessed.

"Just wait…" the colleague said, trailing off as Joel saw what he meant.

The camera seemed to have picked up on some kind of static, turning three parts of the screen into three flickering horizontal blurred lines. Even though the interference was making it harder to see the couple, there appeared to be a faint light, almost like a glow, coming off the couple. It was faint, and possibly none of the people on-site would have noticed it.

"There it is," the colleague said next to him as Joel felt his pulse speed up.

"It's them," Joel whispered. "It's them."

"Yeah," the other agent confirmed without a hint of hesitation.

"Where? Regina?"

"Regina, Canada."

Joel leaned back in his chair, staring unseeingly at the quote on the wall opposite. _The way to have power is to take it._

"They're heading north," Joel mused.

"North-west," the agent filled in.

A smile spread across Joel's face.

"They were at the mall yesterday, Agent," his colleague added and Joel felt his cheeks stretch to accommodate the growing smile.

_You can run, but you cannot hide._


	42. Chapter 41

**CHAPTER 41**  
_Maria_

She observed the petite girl seated opposite her at the wooden picnic table at their latest pit stop along route SK-11 North. The rest place was situated slightly off the highway, surrounded by a couple of trees, and a handful of picnic tables were positioned around the area in a random pattern. Liz was hugging the thin jacket to her body against the chilly Canadian October air, staring down at the half-eaten apple in front of her.

"How are you feeling?" Maria's concerned question had Liz look up at her sharply and Maria got the feeling that she might have startled her.

The left corner of Liz's mouth twitched, as if she tried to smile but then abandoned the idea. "I'm okay."

"You're looking worse than me," Maria noted, watching Liz look skittishly to her left and then to her right. "And _I'm_ the one that's pregnant."

This got Liz's attention and even pulled a small smile from the girl. "It's just… a lot."

Maria smiled at her reassuringly and nodded. "Yeah."

Liz released one of her hands from its tight grip around her body and brought it to her mouth. Absently, she bit at the edge of her thumb. Meeting Maria's eyes, Liz whispered, "How do you do it?"

Maria gestured around them in question. "This?"

Liz nodded. "Everything."

"I've known these people for most of my life. My entire adult life." She offered Liz a smile. "You get used to it."

Maria watched the brown hair blow around Liz's face in the cold wind. Liz rarely ever put her hair up, Maria noted, while she herself enjoyed intricate braids and creative hairstyles in her blonde hair.

"Although… I've never been on the run with them." She laughed softly. "I've never been on the run, period."

Liz huddled into her jacket. "What about having Michael's baby? That doesn't scare you?"

Maria shook her head. She was a bit shocked about that herself. One should possibly be a bit wary of having an alien baby, but to her - who had known Michael for a very very long time - it seemed natural. It didn't seem the least weird to her.

She shook her head. "No more than having anyone else's child. I mean, of course I'm a bit freaked out about being a mother. I can barely take care of myself and in a couple of months I have to raise a little person. But Michael being who he is - being alien - it doesn't freak me out. It's not odd to me."

Liz nodded and looked briefly to her side. Maria followed her look to their male companionship, standing by their car. For the moment, a red Honda. Guessing that Liz wasn't looking at Michael, but rather at Max, Maria smiled.

Liz caught her smile and a smile of her own fluttered across her lips, before she said, "It's not weird to me either. About Max, I mean."

Maria reined in the smile that wanted to grow larger. Liz was comparing her relationship to Max with Maria's relationship to Michael, which could only mean what Maria had long suspected. Liz had feelings for Max. 'Too strong' feelings probably.

"What was your reaction when he told you?" Maria asked, really wanting to know. "When he told you who he really is."

Liz brought her hands up to her mouth in the shape of a cup and blew hot air into them, trying to warm her cold fingers. She avoided Maria's eyes as she answered, "I was still in shock from what had happened with David when he told me. I think that helped. Nothing could shock me at that point."

Liz's last sentence was accompanied by a sheepish smile as Liz looked up at Maria, and Maria chuckled. "I can imagine."

"When do you think they'll be ready?" Liz questioned, her lips slowly turning a shade of blue.

Maria had a feeling that the pregnancy was giving her hot flashes, which was protecting her somewhat from the Canadian autumn, but Liz wasn't as fortunate.

Maria hitched her chin in the direction of Liz's half-eaten apple. "You're not gonna eat that?"

"No appetite," Liz mumbled evasively, as if she was expecting to be hassled about it.

But Maria let it slide. Everyone could see that the 'road trip' had taken its toll on Liz specifically. Especially with her nightmares and accompanied lack of sleep. Apparently, it seemed to have a negative effect on her appetite. Maria looked longingly at the apple. Her appetite was far from decreased.

"You mind if I take it?" Maria asked, which earned a quiet laugh from Liz. Maria warmed at the laugh, happy to have been able to get a laugh out of the troubled travel companion.

"Help yourself," Liz replied, cupping her hands up to her mouth for warmth yet again.

"You should go and sit in the car. You'll get sick out here."

Liz nodded, looking around her.

_She keeps doing that_, Maria thought. _She's grown even more paranoid than Max._

"Yeah," Liz agreed and rose on stiff legs.

"I'm right behind you," Maria said, snatching the apple off the table and sinking her teeth into it. _Mmmmm, fooood._

* * *

_Liz_

She was so tired she could barely stand upright.

The darkness of the evening was intruding on her surroundings as she was pushing coins into the vending machine. Last night had been the first night Max had stayed with her. She had lost the argument, resulting in him from now on keeping watch over her and her nightmares, sparing the rest of the group from the horrors of her dreams.

Last night had been the first night she hadn't been haunted by nightmares, but that might have been due to her insomnia.

Even with the heavy fatigue of her body, the knowledge that Max was sleeping just three feet away (in a separate bed, but still) had kept her awake. Her thoughts had plagued her, forcing her to analyze what Max might feel towards her, analyzing what might happen from now on. Not just once had her mind gone over the kiss at the mall, the feel of his hands on her skin, the restrained pressure against her lips. The memories made her warm, resulting in a lot of tossing and turning under the duvet, trying to get comfortable in her own skin.

In the short intervals that she managed to temporarily abolish her memories, she started obsessing about her imminent danger instead; the danger of being taken by the FBI. Max hadn't had any more premonitions, so there was always the hope that they had managed to change the future and avert the danger.

But Liz couldn't shake the paralyzing paranoia from her bones, couldn't stop herself from jumping at every sudden unexpected noise, wanting to crawl under her covers at night if a tree branch happened to scrape against the window. She had started to expect the worse, had started to become afraid of her own shadow. In an odd way, it would have been a relief to be taken by the FBI, to let it happen. Because the fear of what_might_ happen was slowly eating her up inside.

The hardest part was that she couldn't confide in anyone about it. She didn't want to burden the others with her fears and her worries. She didn't want them to perceive her as weak; that she wasn't worthy of their company and this trip.

The coins clanged in the machine and she pressed the button for a chocolate bar. Her appetite was tragic, but she had gotten a sudden sugar craving about ten minutes ago and figured she might as well make the best of it and actually eat something.

There was a dull bang next to her and she jumped, her hand frozen in position, halfway into the collecting tray about to snatch up the chocolate bar. Her heart hammered against her chest as she turned and surveyed the dark parking lot. Empty. Except for two parked cars the parking lot was completely empty. She let a couple of seconds pass without anything happening before she could let herself relax somewhat and quickly pull her hand back. Pushing the bar into her pocket, she hugged the jacket to her body and hurried back into the building, heading towards the motel room.

It was barely after eight p.m., but they had already retired to their rooms wanting to make an early start the next day. Plus, the majority of the group was still recuperating from sleep lost due to her nightmares.

Liz's hand was shaking as she, in the light of the cream-painted hallway, tried to get the key into the lock to room number 203. Max and her room.

After some fiddling, she got the door unlocked and pushed the door open. The room was dark and she automatically reached for the switch to the left as her eyes traveled into the room and froze, before flicking the switch.

There were two shapes on top of one of the single bed and her acute hearing, heightened by her previous adrenaline surge, took in the sound of lips meeting lips, of soft moans and hands gliding across fabric and skin. Her hand hung in the air on top of the switch as she held her breath, letting her eyes get used to the darkness, expecting the worst. Through the darkness, the soft S-curve of a female back on top of a male shape reached her line of vision.

She only watched for three seconds, but it felt like an eternity as she recorded the nightmare, the real life nightmare, in front of her. Of Tess, with her blonde curly hair glinting in the dim light from the opened front door, merely clad in a black lacy bra, straddling Max who was in his boxers. His hands were running across her overly-exposed back, their lips moving together in a sensual make-out session.

Liz felt vomit push its way up her throat as she backed out of the room until she hit the opposite wall of the hallway with her back. The impact jolted her into action and with a hand pressed to her mouth, she ran for the door that would take her to the parking lot. The darkness enfolded her with its coolness and anonymity as she pushed through the glass door. She stumbled towards the bricked wall, bending over a flower bed, prepared to turn her stomach inside out. But nothing came out. There was nothing to throw up; her stomach was empty.

She inhaled sharply, which elicited a violent sob. Startled at the sound, she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and put her other hand up against the bricked wall, leaning her weight against it as she tried to catch her breath. But her weary body wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to rip out the pain from her heart, rip out her heart.

_How could he?_

She had never felt so betrayed, so hurt. They were not a couple, as she kept telling herself, but there was something there. She was sure of it. He cared for her, as she cared for him.

_How could he kiss her?_

Her whole body was shaking, and occupied with trying to subdue the sobs which were trying to break her body apart, she didn't hear the sound behind her.

There was a prick at the side of her neck and with a startled cry she started to turn, her body searching for adrenaline, but the needle that had been inserted into her neck muscle had nicked the jugular, making the sedative work quickly as it rushed into her blood stream.

She never saw her attacker.


	43. Chapter 42

**r. e . house 92 - **Thank you so much for the feedback! :D

**CHAPTER 42**  
_Max_

The first sign that something was wrong came with the wrongness of his body.

It was as if he had been clogged without actually having been in a fight. His body felt heavy, his head filled with cotton. He blinked slowly, grabbing for the edge of the small bedside table for support. He was somewhat aware of the odd look his sister was giving him before he closed his eyes and with a lowered head tried to get his bearings.

_What's happening?_

He swallowed deeply and was just about to force his eyes open when the thought hit him with brutality.

_Liz._

"Where's Liz?" he ignored the garbled quality to his voice and tried to discount why it felt so difficult to form coherent words. "She should be here by now." He squinted at Tess who had been rather distracted throughout the discussion. _Why is the light so bright?_ "Did you leave her the note?"

"Of course I did," Tess answered, slightly defensive.

Max felt the prickle of apprehension run up his spine and he shook his head. "Something's wrong."

"Are you okay?" Isabel asked, but her question was overrun by Michael stating, "It's only been ten minutes. She probably just needed a break from all the alienness."

Max took a deep breath and closed his eyes for another second. His mind was getting clearer and encouraged, he took another deep breath. Max knew that Liz didn't need 'a break from all the alienness'. Max hadn't failed to notice how jittery Liz had grown these last couple of days and even though she tried not to show it, she rarely wanted to be alone for more than two minutes.

Ten minutes was a long time for Liz to be alone. Too long.

Max was feeling more normal by the second and when he opened his eyes again, Maria was getting up from her seat. "I'll go and look for her."

Michael was quick to follow. "I'll come along. If something _has_ happened, no way I'm letting you go there on your own."

"I'm not staying here," Max said, already at the door (although it had taken some wobbly effort).

Isabel sighed and brushed a hand through her blonde long hair. "I guess that means we'll all go."

Max honestly didn't care who stayed and who came along, he needed to get to Liz. Needed to make sure that she was alright. Because he was terrified that what he had just felt the tip of the iceberg of what was affecting Liz at that very moment. Finding the door ajar to his and Liz's shared room made the apprehension he was feeling spike.

"She wouldn't leave the door open, would she?" Maria whispered behind Max and he put a finger to his lips to gesture silence as he remained by the hinges of the door as he pushed it open with his foot. If he'd had a gun he would be holding it against his chest right now, prepared to aim it in front of him as he swiveled around the corner. Instead, he held his hand out, ready to blast energy from his palm if he came upon an intruder.

The well-used hinges of the door gave a elongated moan as the door slowly swung open. Max took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing pulse, before quickly turning the corner with his right hand stretched out in front of him and his left reaching out to hit the light switch.

The room instantly bathed in light and the tension in Max's body eased back as he scanned the room. There was no one there. The room was empty.

"Liz?" he called out softly as he strode towards the bathroom. "Liz? Are you in there?"

With the same caution that had been applied to the front door, Max pushed the door to the small bathroom open. The bright white light of the room flickered on with a brush of his hand and its interior stared back at him mutely.

"Is she there?" Isabel called from the front door.

Max brushed the shower curtain to the side. It was ridiculous. Of course she wouldn't be standing behind it, but he was desperately hoping that she was. His heart was quickly hardening, his breathing becoming ragged and strained in his ears as he croaked in reply, "No."

She was gone.

"Maybe she's outside," Maria suggested. But her voice sounded wrong. Not like the strong, confident best friend he knew and loved. "Maybe she needed some fresh air."

He nodded, even though they probably couldn't see him inside the bathroom. He heard the shuffle of movements which suggested that someone had gone out to check. He spun and left the bathroom.

As he crossed the wooden floor, his eyes skittered around the room, trying to find signs of a struggle, any clues as to what might have happened. But the beds were still made and their bags were still at the door, right where they had left them two hours before when checking in. He couldn't meet the eyes of his friends as he reached the front door. He felt himself shake with anger and fear. The feeling of failure was melting through his veins like acid, making it difficult to breathe.

_Keep it together. _

He looked up and met his sister's worried eyes.

"Max," she breathed, concern dripping through that single syllable. She reached out to touch his arm in comfort, but he shied away from it, brushing through the small crowd of his closest ones at the door and hurried towards the front door of the building. The cool air hit him in the face, putting a welcoming damper on the fire raging inside of him.

"Max!"

He turned to see Michael crossing the parking lot. He was breathless, as if he had been running. If circumstances had been different, Max had felt gratitude. He had been grateful that Michael seemed to have rushed around the parking lot, looking for a girl that he barely approved of. But Max was emptied of positive emotions.

Michael jogged up to him and Max could detect worry from his friend, which made his heart slam harder in his chest. If _Michael_ was worried it was bad. That was a _really_ bad sign.

"I can't find her. I checked in the reception, asked the clerk, but he hadn't seen her. She's not at the vending machines at the back or by the car."

Max managed a nod and he felt the tightness wind him up again. "They've taken her."

He could hear how flat his statement sounded, which drained him further. Michael put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.  
"We'll find her, okay?"

Max nodded in an attempt to show his gratitude, but all he felt was darkness. And failure. He had failed to protect her.

* * *

_Special FBI Agent Joel Martin_

Elizabeth Parker was a beautiful girl and, based on the records, she was also smart. The complete package. Why she would decide to associate herself with a bunch of aliens was beyond him.

The white laboratory light flickered above him, the bulb needed changing, as he looked over at the unconscious girl restrained to the chair in the middle of the room. He tapped a pencil to his bottom lip as he considered Ms. Parker's agenda. If there even was one.

Maybe she was just one of those girls catching onto a pop culture hype? Like the teenage girls who wanted their boyfriends to suck their blood just because the 'Twilight'-books had romanticized blood as a primary source of sustenance. Maybe she was just in for the thrill of it; to see if they would hurt her or if she would be special and spared. Maybe she wanted a free ticket off this planet.

Liz groaned softly, her slack head lolling imperceptibly to the side. He pushed off the metallic table he had been leaning against and stepped up to the metal chair. Not the most comfortable chair, but it fulfilled the requirements.

He casually approached the chair and stepped on a pedal by its foot, an arrow indication 'Down'. The back of the chair started to recline, the whirring mechanical sound of the motion bouncing off the cold white tiled walls. He looked at her face closely as her eyes were moving rapidly behind her closed eyelids, waiting for her eyes to open.

As the chair stopped in an almost 180 degree angle, making her more or less horizontal, her eyelids fluttered and blinked open. Only to close again with a soft moan.

"Wake up, Ms. Parker," Joel cooed. But to his disappointment, her head lolled heavily to the side, her body relaxing into unconsciousness.

He repressed a groan of frustration, impatiently tapped his pen against the top of her hand, before he left the room in search of the doctor.

He wanted her awake. Now.

* * *

_Liz_

When she came to she thought she was dreaming, because she had been there before.

The scene was eerily familiar with its imposing stark white walls and her inability to move her arms and legs. Then she remembered the sting in her neck and the sensation of falling. Instinctively, she pulled at the restraints even though she knew it was pointless. The hard metallic restraints were digging into her wrists and moving around was only making the unyielding material dig into her soft skin.

She let out a frustrated scream and it bounced back at her from the hard walls, taunting and teasing her. With the realization of her situation came the hot angry tears. She had put herself in a vulnerable situation. She had gone outside, unprotected, at a time when she had been off guard.

Her thoughts immediately flickered to the scene that had made her lose track of her surroundings. Max and Tess, together, and the tears came harder. This was not like the dream at all or Max's premonition.

Max wouldn't come for her this time, he was too busy with Tess.

The bitterness of her thoughts made her bite down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. This was not the time to feel sorry for herself. She had to get out of here. Tending a broken heart was furthest down on her list of priorities.

In the midst of her arguing with herself, the door opened and a wave of déjà-vu hit her as Agent Martin and a white clad man entered the room. She bit back her anger and repressed the urge to trash against her restraints and spit at the men, and aimed at vulnerability instead. Maybe if they could see that she was nothing but a frail human girl, they would let her go.

She removed the restraint on her tears and let them roll down her cheeks.

"Let me go, please," Liz sobbed. "I've told you everything I know. Please."

"Now now, Ms. Parker," Agent Martin said, a calculated look on his face. "This won't hurt a bit. And after I get what I need, I'll let you go."

The recital of her dream word by word scared her more than his words. She felt her own mouth move to form the words that were meant to follow. "I've told you everything already."

Agent Martin gestured towards the doctor, ignoring her plea. "This is the doctor that will assist us today."

The doctor was old, probably well into retirement, but it was the look of complete indifference on his face that ignited her anger again. He was a _doctor._ He had sworn by an oath to 'do no harm' and here he was nonchalantly staring down at a girl restrained to a chair. This was a free country. Alien suspicions or not, they had no right to do this.

"I will report you," Liz threatened, her voice gathering strength through the tears. "This is against my rights. You can't keep me like this. You can't treat me this way."

Agent Martin barely blinked at the venom in her voice. "You are correct, Ms. Parker. Which is why the good doctor here has brought something that will help you forget. You'll wake up in that bed in your motel room none the wiser."

Liz paused. _There. That _was different. Last time there had been no motel room. Which meant that they _had_influenced the future, changed the future, but mostly postponed it. It still happened, just slightly different. The fear was struggling to break free in her body, the fear of betraying her new-found friends and of not remembering that she had done so.

She struggled against the restraints (maybe they would come loose if she jiggled them enough) and spit out, "You bastard! I will remember. I will remember."

Agent Martin smiled sweetly and Liz felt the nausea rise in her esophagus. "I'm pretty positive you won't. This is great stuff. Excellent at causing both retrograde and anterograde amnesia." Agent Martin gave the doctor a nod. "Proceed, doctor."

The doctor nodded and stepped up to Liz with a syringe. Liz felt the tug on her wrist as the doctor picked up the IV-line. Knowing that she could affect the future, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of reading her fear. "Leave me alone!"

She collected a ball of spit in her mouth and directed it at the old man. Her warm spit ended up on his cheek, but the doctor barely flinched and Liz's anger hitched. She got the ominous sensation that the doctor was used to this; this wasn't his first prisoner.

Her pause gave him plenty of time to inject the yellow-tinted liquid into her cephalic vein and while the agent handed the doctor a paper towel to wipe her anger off his face, Agent Martin gave the answer to the question she had never asked (not in this version of the future at least), as if stubbornly refusing to go off script.

"The good doctor here just injected you with, well, the colloquial term would be 'truth serum'. This is the refined version of hypnotics - something that the Army has been working on - that has a much higher degree of…success."

His voice sounded funny, like someone had dulled the clarity, and she was starting to feel dizzy, the white room around her was beginning to tilt.

The agent's voice rolled between highs and lows, like a teenage boy going through puberty, as he filled in, "To you, Ms. Parker, it will just be a pleasant high."

"Max," she said quietly, the words slurring as if she was intoxicated, and her eyelids felt very heavy. "Help me."

The last minutes of conversation were slowly being erased as she gradually disappeared into darkness, yet again.


	44. Chapter 43

**CHAPTER 43**  
_Isabel_

She saw her brother stumble just outside of their car, bracing himself against the hood while his head dipped down.

"Max?"

The night was dark around them. Only 52 minutes had passed since Liz had disappeared, but they had possibly been the longest minutes in Isabel's life. Not just because of her concern for Liz's wellbeing - a girl she had come to consider a close friend - but also because of her concern for her brother.

Those 50+ minutes had pulled her already introverted brother even further away from them. She had watched the muscles of his back tighten and flex beneath his shirt as he had leaned over the road map and she had watched him push his hand repeatedly through his hair and rake his hands down his face. Those were very clear stress markers, small signs that her younger brother was falling apart at the seams.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and he jumped but didn't move away. "What's wrong?"

After a beat, he mumbled darkly, "Everything."

His voice came out slurred, jumbling his normally eloquent speak. She pulled on his shoulder and forced him around to face her. A gasp drifted from her mouth as his red-brimmed eyes looked up at her, flickering back and forth as if he had trouble focusing.

She pressed her palm against his cheek and leaned in to look at him closely. _Was he drunk? _When had he had the chance to drink? They'd been with him the whole time. "Max?"

The sight of him got her thinking about how weird he had looked just before they had noticed that Liz was missing, how he had appeared under the influence even then. But it had passed, too soon for her to ask him about it.

"I don't feel so good," he mumbled which strengthened Isabel's suspicion that he wasn't drunk, he was drugged. He swayed in front of her, putting his hand on her shoulder for support.

She felt the weight of his body pressing down on that one focal point and whipped her head around to call on the others. "There's something wrong with Max!"

They had been going over the parking lot again, moving further out towards the fringes of the motel to see if Liz had decided to take a walk around the neighborhood. But they had agreed to never walk out of earshot. It just wasn't safe. Now they gathered quickly around the siblings and Maria pulled Max's face from Isabel's grip.

"Are you drunk?" she demanded sharply, voicing Isabel's earlier impression.

Isabel heard Michael sigh behind them. "Now is really not the time to make stupid decisions, Maxwell."

"I don't think he's drunk," Isabel said quietly, observing Max's drooping eyelids. "I think he's drugged."

"Drugged?" Maria echoed, letting go off Max's face and turning to Isabel. "Who drugged him?"

"Who had the opportunity to drug him?" Tess added, stepping up next to Michael.

"Liz," Max mumbled and shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts. "It's Liz."

"Liz drugged you?" Tess asked perplexed. "That doesn't make any sense."

Maria shook her head. "No. No, I don't think that's what he means."

It came to Isabel at the same time as it hit Maria, making them voice the clarification in unison, "Liz is drugged."

"He's feeling it indirectly through that bond?" Michael asked skeptically and snapped his fingers in front of Max. When receiving no alert reaction, he continued, "Then why now? If Liz has been taken and drugged, wouldn't it be more sense to drug her to be able to abduct her? Why drug her an hour later?"

"Maybe she followed willingly," Tess suggested lightly. Isabel looked at her and felt a chill down her spine. Tess turned innocent baby blue eyes on her and added, "An excuse to get away from us."

"Or she was threatened and that's why she went along," Maria said.

"I felt this before," Max interrupted, his words slow and hollow. "Probably when she was taken. Just not this…bad."

The chills down her spine grew colder as Isabel watched her brother struggle to stand up straight, his eyes empty and unsteady.

"That's so…odd," Maria murmured.

"Didn't Max foresee that she would be taken by the FBI? Wasn't that why we left?" Michael said flatly and Isabel froze. Right. The government. Had they failed in changing the future?

Max shuddered before her and she frowned. "Is that it, Max? Is that where she is?"

Max slowly wet his lips, as if he had to put his full focus on the task to be able to perform it correctly, before he whispered, "She's in the white room. It's the truth serum. It's the truth serum that is," he wet his lips slowly again, "that is making her…tired."

"Do you know where it is?" Michael asked.

Max shock his head in slow-motion. "No."

"Let's get you inside," Isabel decided. They were not safe out here, in the open, with a barely lucid Max and the veil of darkness possibly disguising enemies.

_Anonymous_

The cave held that earthy damp smell that caves generally did. She had to duck slightly as she entered the cave. Her heart was beating excitedly in her chest; it had been 67 Earth years since she had last been here. By human years she was approaching her 108th birthday, but she didn't look a day older than 31. A result of the kind yellow sun and her ability to manipulate the molecules of her hybridized body.

It had meant that she'd had to change her identity approximately every ten years to avoid suspicion, which unfortunately had meant leaving a lot of human relationships behind. She particularly hated that part of her 'job description', since she enjoyed the relationships, enjoyed the connections human beings made with each other and how open they could be. She had made a lot of friends and sadly lost just as many as her name had changed from one to the next.

She let her hand trace the dirt-dusted cavernous walls as she stepped further into the cave. She knew that Michael had been here, not too long ago. It was her job to keep track of everything they did. But even if she hadn't, his footsteps in the sandy ground would have exposed the cave's latest visitor. Streaks from the daylight outside brightened the top of her strawberry blonde hair as she passed underneath the small opening in the roof of the cave, before she continued further in. Darkness gradually replaced the daylight and she turned on her flashlight as she reached the innermost part of the cave.

The compartment of the Royal couple.

The moving light from the flashlight caught onto the print on the wall and she stepped up to the wall, tracing the letters she herself had carved into the stone, mumbling the writings in the language that seemed almost foreign to her now. "Ndáni yi ulinzi wa hayal udongo kuta cang uongo roho za Laleh Nne."

Her mind, so used nowadays to the Earthen English language, automatically translated the phrase in her head.

_Within the protection of these Earthen cavernous walls lie the souls of the Royal Four. _

She had hoped that the scripture might be read and understood by the inhabitants of the pods placed here, but the transfer of their souls to the human bodies must have removed their language and their memories of their past. Because they had yet to come look for her, as suggested by the second last phrase on the wall.

"Mimi itakuwa karibu na wewe, ole kwa mbali, daima kwa ajili ya ulinzi wako. Tafuta nafsi yako na tel kupata yangu."

She had been the social worker arranging for Max and Isabel's adoption. She had been one of the caretakers at Michael and Tess' orphanage. She had been the neighbor to the Evanses as they grew up and one of Michael's teachers. She had been Tess' roommate in college.

Now she worked as an Emergency Medical Trainer, the trusted colleague of Max Evans.

She smiled sadly to herself. Even though she was an expert in concealing her true identity, even avoiding the sharp suspicious nature of the four youngster she had been sent to protect, she sometimes hoped that they would look at her and recognize her.

Since their home planet was destroyed nine days ago, the Royal Four were all she had. With the loss of her home, the purpose of hiding the Royal Four away on Earth was moot. They were now floating around without direction.

She traced the words of the phrase she had just spoken in Antarian, the translation moving through her head in English, and decided that it was time. It was time to tell them everything.

_I will be close to thee, alas at a distance, always for thy protection. Search thy souls and thou will find me. _

_Max_

She was returned eleven minutes shy of midnight. Max would find her outside about two minutes later, having felt a coldness that didn't belong under the blanket Isabel had tucked around him. Something beckoned him outside and still under the influence of indirect drugs, he stumbled out of bed.

Isabel flew up from the armchair, where she had started to doze off during her task of keeping an eye on Max. "Max!"

He ignored her, waving her hands away as she tried to stop him. "She's outside."

"Liz?" Isabel asked, startled.

Max stumbled up against the doorframe, the floor felt uneven, as if he was on a ship on a stormy night. "Help me."

Isabel pulled the door open and offered Max her elbow for balance. "Where is she?"

"She's outside. Somewhere. She's cold. She's freezing."

Together they exited the motel room. Michael had been inclined to move on after it had been clear that Liz had been taken. His reasoning being that if Liz had been abducted, the rest of them were next. Their location had obviously been exposed. They had agreed upon not leaving until dawn, giving Liz the opportunity to return in case she had just wandered off.

Until the first light of the morning, they would take shifts keeping watch and no one was allowed to go anywhere alone. Max had wanted to help to keep watch, but his general condition was in no shape to guard anyone. Instead, he had been kept under a separate guard watch.

Now he was shuffling towards the front door of the building, leaning heavily on his sister for support. Goosebumps were spreading across the spans of his skin and he felt a particular icy chill at the small of his back. He pushed heavily on the front door, ignoring Isabel's attempt to help him, and stumbled outside. His eyes scanned the parking lot, before landing on a spot to the right.

"Oh my God," he heard Isabel whisper at the same time as his searching gaze came up the crumbled figure next to a green container.

Isabel was quicker, letting go of Max and running up to kneel next to the shape. There were tears in her eyes as she looked up over her shoulder at Max who was hurrying the fastest his tired body allowed over to them.

"It's Liz," Isabel mumbled softly, shocked.

His heart was cold, prickling with ice. He was afraid to speak the words, "Is she alive?"

"Barely," Isabel murmured. She reached out with her hand and grabbed his without looking behind her. With a sharp tug that almost made him lose his footing, she pulled him closer. "You stay with her, I'll get Michael. She's unconscious, I can't carry her on my own. And you're in no shape…"

Her words left a hollow feeling in his chest. He had not only failed to protect Liz, now he couldn't even carry her inside for warmth.

He fell to his knees next to her body. She was curled up in a fetal position, laying on her side. Her shirt had ridden up at the back, exposing a part of her back which had been translating as a very local chill in Max's body. Her skin was pale and intermittent shivers were racing through her small frame. Her hair was loose but the tresses were on the unrelenting concrete ground, revealing her white cheeks, the blue lips.

Carefully, he pushed his arms between the ground and her body, rolling her up in his lap. Her skin was cold, so cold, as he cradled her against his chest.

There was a faint moan from her lips as she folded into his arms, but her body was heavy with dead weight, her head rolling uncontrolled until it came to a stop against his shoulder.

Max registered the hurried footsteps of his friends as they turned the corner and Michael swore under his breath, but it was with an apathetic reluctance that Max let Michael take Liz from his arms.

_I've failed her. _

The sentence drummed through his head over and over again, making him ready to throw up with self-disgust.

"Stop it."

Max had managed to get to his feet and taken two steps when Maria approached him from the side. "_Stop_beating yourself up. This is not your fault."

He tried to force a smile to his lips in an attempt to ridicule what she had just said, a defensive reaction to her being spot-on. As usual.

She put a hand on his upper arm and said, gentler this time, "Max. She's going to be okay. They gave her back."

"Why?" Max looked at Maria, searched her face for the answers. Maybe his best friend could provide the answers he was so desperate to find. "Why did they return her?"

But the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes filled Max with dread. She didn't have a clue either and the fact that Liz had been returned worried not only him but the others as well.

"I don't know," Maria whispered.

He could only guess. Her return was a warning.

When they got back into the room, Michael had placed Liz on the bed and Isabel was pulling layers of layers of blankets over Liz's cold body.

"Michael, get more blankets," Isabel ordered just as Max crossed the threshold. Isabel met Max's eyes and strived for a reassuring smile, but she couldn't quite manage it. "Max, come here."

He wanted nothing but be close to Liz right now. The hours during which she had gone missing had been the worst hours of his life. But he felt the guilt pressing up against the back of his mouth and he didn't know if he could bear to be so close to her. If he _deserved_ it.

"Go over there," Maria said behind him, giving him a gentle shove in the back. "She needs you."

He began moving slowly towards the bed as Isabel scraped a wooden chair from a corner of the room up next to the bed. "Here. Sit."

There was no arguing when Isabel was in command mode, so he followed suit and sank down in the seat.

Hesitantly, he reached for Liz's hand and jumped when his warm hand brushed her ice cold fingers. He could feel Isabel's eyes on him as he curled his hand around Liz's much smaller one, encasing the coldness in feverish warmth. He looked up at her pale face, taking a mental note of her outward appearance; she didn't seem to be injured. There were no blemishes or wounds on her face or arms.

But her body had definitely been through an ordeal.

That was not only evident from her current state but from the small fraction of what Max's body was feeling. The sedative effect in his own body was starting to dissipate. As quickly as the local anesthetics from a dental procedure would suddenly disappear, leaving you with an odd awareness of your teeth and gums.

Along with his own increased clarity, her mouth was moving, mumbling incoherent words while her eyes moved beneath her eyelids. A mere second after she moved a finger against his palm, her eyes opened.

He looked at her closely as her pupils focused on him and to his horror he saw fear flood her expression and she snapped her hand out of his. Everything he thought about himself was visible on her face and he shrunk into himself, wanting to disappear, even before Liz opened her mouth and alerted everyone else in the room to her loathing of Max's presence.

"No, no. Get away from me. Get away from me."

Max stumbled upwards, the wooden chair falling over behind him.

"What's going on?" Isabel asked, rushing up to them as Max walked backwards towards the door and Liz's screams grew quieter as she pulled herself tighter into a fetal position.

"I don't want him here, I don't want him…" Liz's words trailed of into sobs and her last words echoed in his head as Max left the room.


	45. Chapter 44

**CHAPTER 44**  
_Isabel_

She sat down on the edge of the bed, next to Liz's sobbing figure. Hesitantly, she moved her hand to Liz's head and let it hover in the air for a second before cautiously bringing it down to touch the brown tresses. Liz jumped at the contact, but didn't move away - so Isabel started stroking her hair like a mother would comfort her daughter.

"I'm cold," Liz whispered.

"You were laying on the ground outside," Isabel said quietly. "Liz. Do you remember anything?"

Liz shook her head and seemed to search her mind. Apparently she found no answers, because she repeated through clattering teeth, "So cold."

"Do you want to take a shower?" Isabel asked, threading her fingers through Liz's thick hair.

Liz nodded, another sob being wrenched out of her.

"Come here," Isabel said and carefully put an arm underneath Liz's body to guide her upwards. "I'll help you."

"Thank you," Liz whispered and let herself be pulled up against Isabel's body.

"Michael," Isabel said over her shoulder, his name coming out in a groan as she pulled Liz's tired body up. "Go and see if Max's okay. Maria, could you help me?"

"Sure," Maria answered and walked around Liz to take a hold of one of Liz's elbow while Isabel took a hold of the other.

"I'll go and keep watch. Just in case," Tess said from the hallway and Isabel gave her a distracted nod.

Together, Isabel and Maria supported Liz's weight to the bathroom. Isabel hit the light switch with her elbow and the room was bathed in light, illuminating dark purples circles beneath Liz's eyes. Her skin was so pale that it was almost translucent in the bright white light. Isabel and Maria guided Liz up to a wall, in front of a towel rack.

"Here," Isabel said, and placed Liz's left hand on the wall in front of her. Maria mimicked the movement, guiding Liz's right hand to the wall. "Support yourself against the wall and Maria and I will help you out of these clothes."

Liz barely nodded as she swayed slightly, before finding her balance by leaning forward slightly, pushing her centre of gravity closer to the wall.

Isabel met Maria's concerned wet eyes behind Liz's back and reached out to give Maria's hand a squeeze (her hand was so cold), before they with a nod of consensus started to undress Liz. Wet socks were stripped from ice cold feet (where were her shoes?) and jeans were pulled off her slim legs, one leg at the time.

But as they lifted the sweater upwards, removing one of Liz's hands from the wall to get it through the sleeve, Maria froze.

"What?" Isabel asked, tugging at the hem of the shirt.

"Look," Maria whispered, her voice toneless and scared. She was hitching her chin towards Liz's exposed back, where black ink had come into view.

Isabel felt a wave of fear, and wordlessly pulled the sweater all the way over Liz's head, revealing writing in black permanent marker across Liz's white skin.

The writing was in block letters, curving across Liz's protruding shoulder blades, across her spine and stopping just above her lower back.

WE KNOW EVERYTHING NOW.  
DON'T TRY AND RUN.  
WE'LL FIND YOU.

* * *

_Michael_

"Hey! Max! Stop, man."

Michael jogged after the dark figure of his friend, his sneakers heavily impacting the asphalted parking lot. He was not used to running. His preferred method of exercise was walking from the couch to retrieve a Snapple from the fridge and then retrace his steps.

Consequently, he was sort of out of breath as he took a hold of Max's elbow. "Hey."

Max pulled out of his grip and swirled, his eyes irritated and hinting of anger. "Leave me alone, Michael."

"Don't be such a martyr, Evans," Michael groaned. Max held some pretty great traits, like fierce loyalty and reliability, but his self-hate was an aggravating quality at best.

"You saw her," Max said tightly, pushing fingers through his short brown hair, frustration billowing off him in waves. "She can't be around me."

"God knows what's happened to her," Michael objected. "Maybe getting touched scares the living daylights out of her."

"No," Max shook his head, his lips thin over his teeth as the muscles in his jaw flexed and tensed. "She let Isabel touch her."

Michael frowned. _Damn. He was right. _

"Maybe girls are better for her. Safer." Michael knew he was grasping for straws. He had himself been a witness to Liz's reaction and he had to admit, it had seemed very much as if Max had been the problem in that room.

"Before she was abducted, did something happen between you? Did you say something to her? Fight about anything?"

Max kicked at a lonely walnut-sized stone on the ground, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "Nothing. We were planning for our next day on the road when she left to get something to eat."

Michael looked at him contemplatively. "And she left for the vending machine."

"And didn't return," Max sighed and angled his gaze upwards to the blinking stars of the dark night sky.

"Then she can't be mad at _you_," Michael rationalized. "She must've been reacting to something else. And you got the bulk of it since you were the first person she saw after she had been… whatever has happened to her."

"Thanks," Max muttered, dropping his eyes and giving another stone a hard kick. "But I know what I saw. I swore to protect her and I didn't."

Michael felt his own annoyance grow. "Fuck, Max. Get your head out of your ass." He chose to ignore how Max glowered at him. "Not everything that goes wrong is your fault. I'm so fucking fed up with this self-loathing and us always having to convince you of otherwise. It's like you're stuck in a constant need of affirmation, which is fucking _exhausting_."

Max's eyes were dark as he answered tightly, "Well, I'm sorry if I'm such an annoyance, but no one asked any of you to 'make me feel better'. I know what I did wrong and now I have to suffer the consequences, that's it. Let me wallow in self-loathing, as you call it. I deserve it."

Michael sighed deeply, acclaimed by the strongest need to shake Max harshly to get him to snap out of it. "For a smart guy, you can be a real bonehead sometimes."

Max raked his hands down his face before yelling into his hands, which dampened the vehemence, "Just leave me alone, alright?!"

"Fine," Michael grumbled. "Just don't go and do something reckless."

As Michael turned to walk away he heard Max mutter, "I won't. I'm not you."

Michael's right hand tightened into a fist and he wanted to turn around and let his fist impact with Max's face, but he held back, letting his back absorb the tension. Being the martyr he was, Max would probably enjoy the beating. He'd probably think he deserved it. Michael wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

* * *

_Liz_

According to Isabel, Liz had been missing for about four hours.

Liz had no recollection of this time.

The last thing she remembered was stumbling out of the motel after having witnessed Max and Tess in bed together in a very intimate position. Apparently, drugs were not enough to erase that memory.

The first memory after that was Max holding her hand and looking at her with guilt. She had been overwhelmed with disgust and betrayal, so fierce that she couldn't stand to look at him, didn't want him to touch her. Maybe she had overreacted, but he should have known that she didn't want him near. Not after what he did.

_He probably doesn't know that you know._

Her inner rational voice tried to reason with her, but she was past the point of caring. Him being aware of her knowing about it or not, didn't change what happened. She had pulled the covers up to her ears, still trying to catch some warmth to fill that coldness inside of her.

She had been staring out at the red-painted morning sky through the motel window for the past ten minutes, knowing that it was only a matter of time before she had to get up. They had planned to leave at dawn. After helping her with a shower a couple of hours earlier, Isabel had stayed while Maria had left. There had been hushed words and fearful glances towards Liz at Maria's departure and Liz had the suspicion that something else had happened, outside of her abduction.

But Isabel hadn't said anything and Liz had shortly thereafter been claimed by a heavy sleep.

"Hey, you awake?"

Liz couldn't help but be startled at the soft voice. She was all tangled up in nerves, more jittery than ever. She turned her head under the covers and watched Maria enter the room. Liz also spotted Isabel asleep on the bed next to hers (_Max's bed_; Liz blinked to try and erase the suffocating mental image of Max and Tess on that bed).

"Sorry," Maria whispered, holding a cup in her hand. "Did I wake you?"

Maria looked tired, Liz noted. Almost haunted. These last couple of hours had not only been hard on her, but on everyone around her.

Liz shook her head wordlessly and turned more fully under the covers before sitting up and scooting up against the wall. Maria took a seat opposite her on the bed and handed over the cup.

"I brought you some tea. I know you prefer tea to coffee."

Liz gave her a weak smile and let the warmth of the cup spread into her cold hands. "Thank you."

Maria's eyes were concerned as she searched her face. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Liz whispered, taking a sip of the hot tea. It wasn't a complete lie. The sedation had completely worn off and because of that she felt immensely better, but she was more scared than ever. Mostly because of the unknown, of not knowing what had really happened to her during those hours she had been missing.

"We're leaving in about 20 minutes, is that okay?" Maria asked softly.

Liz nodded. "Sure."

Maria bit her bottom lip with uncertainty and Liz realized that she had never seen Maria so unsure of herself. Laying a hand on top of Liz's, Maria gently squeezed across Liz's fingers. Maria's hand was warm and comforting. "I'm here if you need to talk."

Liz felt tears at the back of her eyes and damned herself for it. She hated being this mess, so out of control, constantly on the edge of breaking down. Her voice was mangled and broken as she answered, "Thanks."

Maria smiled at her hesitantly and let go of her hand. "We'll come and get you soon, then."

Liz nodded and Maria got to her feet, only to move a short distance to gentle touch Isabel on the shoulder, rousing her from her sleep. "Isabel. We're leaving in 20 minutes."

Isabel's sleep-ridden voice replied, "Okay."

Maria left the room and Isabel turned to look at Liz. Liz gave her a weak smile and took another sip of her tea.

"Oh, hi," Isabel said and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes with the back of her hand as she yawned. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay," Liz answered, leaving enough explanation to fill a novel out of her reply.

"Good," Isabel answered and yawned again. "God…" She eyed Liz's cup. "Is that coffee?"

"Tea," Liz replied.

Isabel groaned and sat up, stretching her arms skywards as the covers collected at her waist. She was still in regular clothing; jeans and a sweater.

_Always prepared to leave,_ Liz observed.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower," Isabel stated and her expression turned concerned. "Will you be okay out here? I'll leave the bathroom door open."

Liz nodded. She couldn't deny that the idea of being alone for just a few minutes scared her, but she had to start getting over this. She couldn't let herself be paralyzed by this fear. "Of course."

Isabel searched her face for another truth and probably didn't find any contradiction to her words as she scooted out of bed, checked that the front door was locked and walked over to the bathroom. Before she disappeared inside, she turned in the doorway, saying, "Holler if you need me."

"Yeah," Liz agreed, gripping the warm cup of tea harder between her hands.

She quickly scanned her surroundings, something that had become something of a habit, before she slid down under the covers, her cup barely being kept upright.

She had started a mantra in her head, trying to keep the mental ghosts at bay.

_You're going to be okay. You're going to be okay. You're going to be okay._


	46. Chapter 45

**CHAPTER 45**  
_8 hours earlier  
Special Agent Joel Martin_

"Agent Martin," the authoritative voice said behind him. Joel recognized the voice as belonging to Agent Powell, head of the FBI's Special Unit, before he turned around to let his eyes confirm.

"Agent Powell," Joel nodded at the black-haired tall man.

Agent Powell took a seat next to Joel in front of the large one-way window. On the other side of the window was Elizabeth Parker, restrained to one of their interrogation chairs. She had just been brought in and was still under sedation.

"Did the retrieval go well?" Agent Powell asked, his eyes fixed on the girl.

Joel nodded. Ms. Parker had made it easy for them. She had gone outside, in the dark, alone. "Yes. Without a hitch."

"Good," Agent Powell said, elongating the word as if his mind was somewhere else. "So this is the girl? Elizabeth Parker?"

Joel nodded. "Yes, sir."

"And according to your investigation, she's completely human?"

"Well…" Joel licked his lips. "She has something of an interesting background as well." Agent Powell turned interested gleaming eyes on him and Joel hurried to add, "But nothing like the background of the suspects, sir," to not give his superior the wrong impression.

"Aha," Agent Powell said slowly and leaned back in his chair, braiding his fingers together to rest on top of his belt buckle. "So what's this girl's story? Why is her background interesting? Her mother was killed in a horrendous accident and she survived, correct?"

Joel knew that Agent Powell had been through the notes and suspected that the man was very well aware of Ms. Parker's story. But for some reason, Agent Powell wanted to hear Joel's take on the information.

"That's correct, sir. She didn't have a scratch on her, which in itself is something of a mystery. But I'm getting reports that hint to a Diane Evans being at the scene of the accident, just after it happened."

Agent Powell couldn't hide his intrigue and whipped his head to Joel, breathing, "_Evans?_ Any connection to our suspect?"

"She's Max Evans' adoptive mother."

"Ha…" Agent Powell scoffed incredulously and leaned forward in his seat, his elbows digging into his thighs, his fingers slowly caressing the short beard on his chin as his eyes were trained on the unconscious girl in the next room.

"If these reports are correct, we can't rule out the possibility that Max Evans did something to Elizabeth Parker at the scene of the accident."

"Leaving her unscathed, without an injury on her," Agent Powell filled in.

"Correct, sir," Joel answered.

"But no reports of any interaction between Elizabeth Parker and Max Evans during their upbringing?"

Joel shook his head. "Apparently, they first met - by chance - at an office party at the end of August."

"Fate works in mysterious ways," Agent Powell mused and there was a moment of silence between the two agents, before Agent Powell asked, "She's a prodigy, this Ms. Parker?"

"Yes, sir," Joel replied. "A genius, by IQ-standards."

Agent Powell nodded slowly.

"But other than that, there's nothing suspicious about her upbringing or her life," Joel added.

"Well, I guess we'll find out, either way," Agent Powell said and threw Joel a smile. "She'll wake up soon. I think you should handle the questioning, agent."

Joel had hoped he would and looked at his superior with a look of respect and gratitude. "Thank you, sir. I won't disappoint."

"Good," Agent Powell nodded and rose from the chair. With one final look at the still form of Elizabeth Parker, Agent Powell moved towards the door. Hand on the doorknob he turned around and said, coldly, "Don't be too kind on her, agent. Do what needs to be done to get the answers. She won't remember what you did afterwards anyway."

Joel felt a chill run through him. His intention had never been to harm innocent people, and even though Elizabeth might not be completely innocent, she was still human. But this case could be the breakthrough of his career, he couldn't mess it up by being too kind. Besides, like Agent Powell said, Ms. Parker wouldn't remember anything anyway.

"Of course, sir. Thank you, sir."

With a nod, Agent Powell opened the door and left the room, leaving Joel alone to stare at his prisoner through the window.

* * *

_Present time  
Tess_

It had gone much better than expected. She couldn't claim to be a fan of the FBI, but under the circumstances they had greatly assisted her own agenda (based on the suspicions that Liz had actually been abducted by the FBI; Liz claimed to have no memory of her abduction) of putting a wedge between Max and Liz.

Liz had been nothing short of fearful of Max since her return and Max was wallowing in self-pity, leaving it to Tess to be the main comforter. The others seemed more than happy to leave that job to her; they seemed more than a little fed up with Max's predictable behavior. They hadn't even objected to Tess staying with Max in her and Isabel's room, while Isabel stayed with Liz.

The annoying detail to all this self-loathing was of course that Max was not really up for anything except lying on his bed with the blanket covering his head. After a couple of attempts at conversation, Tess had given up on the basis of the dialogue being more of a monologue. But at least she was there in silent comfort. She was _there_ for Max. Something she'd make sure he wouldn't forget.

But by dawn, Max Evans had transformed into another person. From the pathetic martyr that had curled down beneath the covers, he greeted the new day with purpose and power. His gentle hand on her shoulder woke her up.

"Hey," he said softly. "It's time to leave."

Tess looked up at him, at the shadows cast across the lower parts of his face due to his neglect to shave these last couple of days, and couldn't help but notice the dark look of determination in his eyes. He exuded power and authority, making her stomach coil in a delicious manner.

"Okay. Is there time to shower?"

He looked over at the front door and, rather reluctantly, answered, "Sure. A fast one."

She smiled slowly. _A quickie it is,_ she thought and let the covers fall to her waist as she sat up.

She took satisfaction in the dilation of his pupils and the redness to his cheeks as her upper body was exposed. She was only wearing a bra. A lacy pink bra, which transparent material barely hid her full breasts and hardening nipples.

To her disappointment, he quickly looked away and walked over to the door. She was slightly impressed by how steady his voice sounded as he said, "I'll be outside."

"We shouldn't be alone, remember?" Tess said, just as he placed his hand on the door knob.

Before he had a chance to answer, she rose from the bed, exposing her curvy body to him in only panties and a bra. She was a bit disappointed that he was standing so far away, too far away for her to be able to read his body language properly. But she knew that he was watching as she sauntered over to the bathroom door. "I'll just be a second."

She could feel his hesitation in the stiffness of his body as she threw him an inviting smile before she stepped into the bathroom. She left the door ajar as she turned on the shower to let the water turn warm. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror as she unclasped the bra and stepped out of her panties. It didn't really matter that Max couldn't see her, that he was probably still over by the front door, the fact alone that she was standing naked with an open door just a few feet away from him was enticingly erotic.

She let her eyes drift closed as she slowly traced her index finger down the curve of her breast and circled her excited nipple, imagining Max's hands on her. She let her other hand trace down the expanse of her flat stomach, letting her fingers flutter across her femininity, the area cleanly waxed giving it the softness of a baby's bottom. Her head fell slightly backwards and her tongue sneaked out to wet her lips as she touched herself.

"Tess." His voice outside the bathroom ripped her out of her fantasy with a soft moan of pleasure.

"We don't have much time." His voice was stressed and impatient and Tess sighed.

_Fine._

She got into the shower and showered quickly, trying to prepare herself for being back in the car with the forced company of the others. Hopefully, she would be in the same car as Max.

* * *

_Michael_

He was relieved to see this other side of Max. The three of them had always assumed that Max was born with natural leadership characteristics, even though Max rarely wanted to shout it out from the rooftops, being more comfortable in the background.

But there was something in the way Max spoke, in how he commanded attention and respect, that told that he was meant to lead. That was very much evident in the wake of Liz's return.

They were stopped at a pit stop and they had a regular road map spread out over the hood of one of the rental cars. Before going on the run, they had opted for a regular map instead of using applications in cell phones or GPS's, finding that the old method of navigation was preferable in giving a better overview and preventing being traced.

Max placed his index finger at a city just a couple of miles to the west. "I think we should go through here."

Isabel leaned in to look at his suggestion. "You think we should get off the highway?"

"He's right," Michael said. "They're more likely to put up road blocks on the larger roads."

"Are we still aiming for Vancouver?"

Max nodded. "It's small enough to be less conspicuous and large enough to hide us. Hopefully a lot of places to disappear underground."

"And it has an airport," Isabel said faintly, voicing what they were afraid to admit. That they might, eventually, have to leave the country.

When no one commented on Isabel's observation, Michael returned his attention to the map and pointed to where Max's finger had just been. "So we follow 11 and get on 16-"

"But that's the long way round," Isabel interrupted.

"It's either that," Max interjected, "Or we get onto 7 W and drive towards…" he moved his finger along the highway, "…Calgary."

"That might save us some time," Michael said thoughtfully.

"This whole detour along small roads will waste us a lot of time anyway," Isabel pointed out.

"Yeah," Max said. "Unfortunately. So. Going back through Calgary or continue up to Saskatoon and head west?"

"I think we should-"

"_Michael!"_

The three of them spun around, instant adrenaline rushing through their veins, as Maria came jogging out of the convenience store.

"What is it?" Michael asked, instantly worried. Was something wrong with the baby? He walked quickly towards her to meet her halfway. He heard the others follow in his trail.

Maria's cheeks were flushed as she caught her breath before saying, her voice lowered, "We're on TV."

Michael's heart stopped and he snapped his eyes to Max. Max looked as white as Michael felt.

"We're on the 'Most Wanted'."

"Newspapers?" Max asked, his voice thin.

Maria grimaced. "We made the front page."

Max began folding up the map as he barked, "Get Tess and Liz. We need to leave. Now."

* * *

_Jeffrey_

It had been the worst day of his life and even though he had tried desperately to forget, his mind was unfortunately more inclined to plague his memory with crisp details than sweet oblivion.

Just like one probably would never forget their whereabouts upon hearing about the tragedy at the Twin Towers on 9/11, Jeff would never forget where he was on the day his wife died.

He had missed the train home and a glance at the departure board had irritation and frustration roll through him. The next train had been due 1 hour and 52 minutes later, which had meant that he would miss the opportunity to put his daughter to bed, breaking his promise to her that very same morning.

To his surprise, he were to find their apartment empty, silenced in darkness, when he finally got home 165 minutes later.

The blinking red light from the answering machine, indicating a saved message, was the only light source in the dark apartment. He had felt a chill, one of the emotional kind. An ominous sense of foreboding. Call it a sixth sense, call it whatever you like, but there was something that warned Jeffrey Parker as he approached that answering machine and pressing 'Play'.

"_Mr. Parker? This is from the ER at Massachusetts General Hospital. We need to talk to you straight away. Your wife and child has been in an accident. Call us back at-"_

But he wasn't listening anymore, his brain had frozen with fear and numbly he pressed forward to the next saved message.

"_Mr Parker. This is from the ER. Contact us immediately."_

The trip from the apartment to the emergency department of the General Hospital is the only part of his memory that remains fuzzy. He wouldn't be able to recount how he got himself to the hospital or if anyone had approached him on the way there.

The details of his memory drop in as soon as he opens the door to the main entrance and the volume of a busy emergency medical area hits him. Staff in green scrubs rush back and forth across the hallway, disappearing and reappearing from different rooms. Instructions and medicine orders are bouncing back and forth and the air smells of disinfectant, blood and sickness. He remembered taking a step forward and the door swinging closed behind him.

A dark-skinned man in blue scrubs rushed passed him, brushing against his chest and yelling a hasty 'Sorry!' over his shoulder before disappearing into a room, the door with embedded windows swinging back and forth behind the man.

Jeffrey remembered looking through the windows in those doors, seeing the nurses juggling intravenous bags, a doctor in the midst of intubating an unresponsive young man with lacerating injuries to his chest while some nurse was yelling off numbers from the adjacent monitors.

He remembered the beeping sounds from various machines, the soft cries from a neighboring room and the stress that saturated the air as he made his way up to the reception area on shaky legs.

He recalled the calmness of the clerk behind the desk, a stark contrast to the energy of the place, as he looked up at the pale father. "Yes?"

"I'm…" Jeffrey cleared his throat. "My name is Jeffrey Parker. Someone called me about my wife and daughter. They're supposed to be here."

The clerk held up his index finger, "Just a moment, sir," before turning to a young short-haired brunette behind him. "Chloe, do you know of a wife and a daughter - Parker?"

"Nancy and Elizabeth," Jeffrey added, but the clerk was barely paying attention.

"Exam room 3," the girl by the name of Chloe replied and addressed the clerk, "I'll tell Dr. Harris."

The receptionist hopped off his stool and walked around the desk. He was young, in his mid-20's, with muscled arms and a butch cut which might have given him an unapproachable appearance if it were not for his rather emphatic and kind face.

"Come with me, sir," he said and took a gentle hold of Jeffrey's elbow.

Jeffrey let himself be led down the corridor, past gurneys with immobile patients, past even more swinging doors with windows through which he could see more sick people being worked on by the staff. He felt the nausea rise in his throat alongside his fear. In a way, he never wanted to reach Exam Room 3.

The clerk kicked a package of compresses haphazardly abandoned on the floor to the side in front of two closed swinging doors and pointed to a row of three blue plastic chairs propped up against a wall. "Take a seat, sir, and Dr. Harris will be with you in a minute."

Jeffrey might have gotten a 'Thank you' past his dry throat and cracked lips, but in retrospect he wasn't sure if he had managed even a syllable. He may have simply sunk down on one of those chairs, his eyes vacant as they stared off into the eggshell white wall opposite him. It felt as if he barely had time to blink or catch his breath before a tall man in his late 50's in a white clinic coat was standing in front of him. "Mr. Parker?"

Jeffrey lifted his gaze and met a cautious expression. He felt anxiety squeeze his heart.

"Are you Mr. Parker?" the man with the cautious expression questioned.

Jeffrey realized that he had to say something, but his head only managed a nod in confirmation.

The doctor exhaled slowly and his expression turned serious. Professional. "Your wife and daughter were brought in here about two hours ago. They've been in a serious car accident."

Was this a dream? Wasn't he supposed to wake up now?

"Your daughter was in shock and was hooked up to IV fluids immediately. We haven't found a single scratch on her. Considering the state of the car and…and the condition of your wife, it's nothing short of a miracle that you're daughter is unharmed."

His mouth was very dry. "She's okay?"

His croaked question was answered with a nod, "Yes. You're daughter is fine."

"And my wife?"

He already knew that something bad had happened. He had know this from how the doctor seemed to omit details of his wife. The expression on the doctor's face turned darker and Jeffrey had a fleeting sympathetic thought towards the doctor concerning the misery of being the messenger of this kind of information before he felt his body start to crack at the seams.

"Your wife was brought in with extensive damage to her chest and heart. She was found without a pulse and not breathing at the site of the accident. The EMTs and our staff made considerable attempts at revival but the damage to her heart tissue was too extensive and we couldn't bring her back."

"How…?" Jeffrey whispered, unable to voice his full question, but the doctor seemed to understand what he wanted to know.

"Your wife's injuries were caused by a metal pipe; it…" the doctor cleared his throat uncomfortably before continuing, "…pierced through the car's windshield and through your wife's heart." As Jeffrey felt incomprehension swirl around his thoughts, the doctor added quietly, "I apologize for your loss, Mr. Parker."

The last words were muted in the dullness that was spreading throughout his mind. There was an exploding tension in his heart and even though he couldn't register it, tears were streaming down his face.

All he could think about was that he had to get to Lizzie. Had to see his daughter.

"Where's my daughter?" he whispered, desperation tinging his voice.

The doctor looked at him with such pity that Jeffrey felt like throwing up. The doctor pushed at the swinging door next to where Jeffrey was seated. "In here."

Jeffrey would never forget how small his daughter looked in that hospital bed. There was dried blood in her hair and on her throat, but the staff had put her in a hospital gown, removing the rest of his wife's blood.

That's what they had told him afterwards anyway, that Liz had been covered in her mother's blood.

He had barely taken in the sight of the IV line attached to Liz's small arm or the oxygen line attached to her nostrils to supply her with oxygen. He had only seen her. His beautiful, innocent, fragile little girl.

She was all he had now. All he had.

* * *

So when his daughter had told him, on a day in October little more than a week ago, that she was going to travel around the world, Jeffrey felt his world start to slip apart.

Of course, he had wanted her to feel free to travel and experience things on her own, but he couldn't help but grow instantly sick with worry. It was with strong reluctance that he let her go. He hadn't wanted to tell his daughter at the time that he'd had a really bad feeling about the whole thing.

The trip was just so sudden. She had never expressed wishes to travel around the world before. And she had just started her new job. Why would she leave that right now…?

He had the terrible foreboding that something wasn't right, even before she had kissed him goodbye with tears in her eyes and a mumbled, "Love you, Daddy."

Her farewell in itself hadn't helped matters much, having felt like a final goodbye.

Now, as he looked at the photographs on the TV-screen of his daughter grouped together with the faces of five strange people around Liz's age, with the news reporter claiming the depicted persons as wanted by the police and the FBI, he had that feeling again.

That feeling of darkness and foreboding that he had felt just before pressing that button on the answering machine twenty years earlier which had led him to the death of his wife.


	47. Chapter 46

**CHAPTER 46**  
_The night before  
Tess_

The click from the door echoed through the dark and empty motel room. Tess' eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, making the dim light from the hallway - seeping into the opening door - sting her eyes.

She only needed to confirm that it was _her_, before she got to work.

Her palms were clammy, pressed up against the wall behind her, as she pressed herself as thinly as she could along the wall. If the person at the door had looked to her left, she would have spotted Tess. But the brunette's eyes were fixed straight ahead, her hand reaching for the switch to the light.

Before the dark-haired girl could bathe the room in light, Tess closed her eyes and forced herself into the mind of Liz Parker.

It was not hard - considering how tired Liz must be after several nights without proper sleep - to break the barrier to Liz's thoughts. Tess easily bent Liz's mind to accommodate Tess' thoughts and images, foregoing Liz's own thoughts.

Like a painter, Tess fluidly drew and shaped images of herself and Max Evans in a compromising position. She felt the stabs of Liz's initial confusion, which quickly rippled into betrayal and hurt, as Liz reacted to the images only she and Tess could see.

In reality, the bed in front of them was empty, Max having left just two minutes earlier for their meeting, and Tess offering to stay behind to leave Liz a note. But instead, Liz was fooled into believing that Tess and Max were close to having sex.

When Tess felt Liz's resolve crumble, felt the panic build in her victim, and felt Liz turn in the doorway to leave, Tess ended the mind-warp with a satisfied smile.

There. Done.

* * *

_Present time  
Liz_

She could feel the warmth of his body pressing against hers as she tried to silence her anxious breathing and calm her racing heart. She could feel his elbow digging into her side uncomfortably as she tightened her arms around her knees in an attempt to prevent her feet from slipping and sliding into view.

There was the sharp bark from a dog, a large dog by the sound of it, and they jumped in unison in their hiding spot. Liz's effort at controlling her breathing went out the window as she felt his body tighten against hers and his breathing become strained against her ear.

_They've brought dogs._

She couldn't help but wonder if Max had any powers for not getting sniffed out by trained police dogs, but from the way his body had reacted to the sound of the dogs she had a sinking feeling that aliens were as helpless as any regular human being against the canine nose.

She wanted to turn her head and look at him. Wanted to see if he was really scared or if he was still in control. She wanted to talk to him and be reassured. But she didn't dare to move a muscle, was afraid to even flinch.

Their hiding place was covered in shadows and the corner they were crouched in hid them perfectly well from one direction but not very well from the other. There was stomping of feet, of men yelling orders back and forth, and now she could also hear the excited panting of dogs.

She jumped as a dog barked again and squeezed her eyes tightly shut as the dog's handler, with a soft voice, asked the dog if it had picked up on something. Her heart was thrumming out of her chest and her hands were turning white with the tightness of her holding onto her knees. Max moved subtly next to her and her eyes shot open.

He put his mouth close to her ear, so close that she could feel his lips brush against her skin as he whispered, "We need to move". And even though she was scared to death, the sensation of his lips vibrating against her ear managed to warm her fingers and beat life into her tightly frightened heart.

With the futile thought of _How did I end up here?_ she stumbled to her feet, ready to follow Max's direction.

* * *

_4 hours earlier  
Max_

"Isabel and Tess, you can ride with us," Maria suggested, but it sounded more like an order than a suggestion.

Max looked at Maria in confusion. "Why? There's no point in squeezing you into one car."

Because if Isabel and Tess rode with Maria and Michael, that ensured that Liz and him would be alone in one car. On their own. By themselves. Max didn't want to look over at Liz and see her reaction, but he was pretty certain he could feel her trepidation wobble through their connection. She was about as eager to ride with him alone as he was.

Apparently, so was Tess as she beat Maria to answer the question by, rather annoyed, adding, "Yeah, why should I go with you? I'd rather go with Max and Liz."

Max looked over at the blonde girl, who had fury coloring her cheeks red, and considered how blunt that girl could be.

Maria sighed and let her eyes dance over Liz and Max. Max didn't fail to notice that she ignored Tess when she answered, "I was trying to be subtle about this, but if you're gonna put up a fight…"

"Ria," Michael said, "Whatever you've got planned, say it quickly, because we don't have time to stand around here. The police is on our trail."

"You might not want to acknowledge it, but I think it's pretty clear to everyone that you," Maria gave Max a pointed look, "and Liz need to talk. If we're gonna function as a group - which is more or less vital to our survival at this point - we can't have two people at odds with each other. Something's happened between you two and you need to talk it out."

Max let his eyes drop to the ground, feeling the unmistakable weight of embarrassment, as he heard Michael sigh. "She's got a point. Alright," Max raised his glance to see Michael point everyone out by name and then point to assigned cars, "Maria, Tess and Isabel, you're with me. Max and Liz, you're on your own."

Max didn't need a connection to feel the heat of wrath from Tess standing next to him.

"No. No, I won't do it," Tess objected angrily and Max silently questioned why she was so adamant on going with him and Liz.

"Don't be a baby," Michael said plainly, ending the conversation, and turned to Max. "Should I take the lead?"

Max had yet to look over at Liz and felt rather bulldozed into inaction. His acknowledgement was given in a mumbled, "Sure."

Maria and Isabel started to move towards one of the cars and Michael gave the short angry girl rooted to the ground a sharp look. "Tess. In the car. Now."

Max had a feeling that Tess had several words she wanted to share with Michael, but she pressed her lips tightly together and stomped off towards the assigned car like an obstinate four-year-old not getting her way.

"We need some supplies," Max said, stopping Michael as he turned towards the almost-full-car he were to chauffeur. "We can't stay in motels any longer, so we need blankets, maybe a tent-"

Michael shook his head. "It's too cold to sleep in tents; we'll freeze to death in our sleep."

Max nodded, agreeing. "Yeah. I thought so too. We'll have to try and sleep in the cars, but we need blankets."

"Let's stop at the first shopping mall we'll see, okay?"

Max nodded. "Great."

He heard the door to the car he was supposed to drive open behind him and Michael gave him a weak sympathetic smile while hitching his chin in the direction of Max's car. "Good luck."

Max managed the grimace of a smile, "Thanks", and heard the passenger door shut behind him.

The Canadian air was cool as it whipped against his face when he turned towards the car. She was hunched up in her seat as he pulled the car door to the driver's seat open, her hands between her thighs as if she was freezing.

"Are you cold?" he asked as he took a seat, pulled the door closed and put the key into the ignition.

She threw him a fleeting smile and said, "A little."

Max turned the ignition and reached to turn the car heating on full force. "It'll heat up soon enough."

"Thanks," she mumbled and turned her eyes outwards across the rest stop.

Max held back a sigh and released the hand brake. This was going to be a long ride.

* * *

_Liz_

In a way she had hoped that Maria's plan would work. That Max would talk to her and give her some kind of explanation as to why he had made out (and possibly more) with Tess.

They were not a couple so she couldn't really be angry with him or feel this betrayed, but she was and she did. The least he could do was offer her an explanation. She was certain that he knew that he had done something wrong and that he also suspected that she knew, based on the expression of deep guilt she had seen on his face directly after she had been returned from the FBI.

What else would he be guilty about?

She chanced a glance in his direction, but he was paying a ridiculously grave attention to the road, as if it was snowfall or heavy rainfall which forced him to concentrate 110%. Except for the fact that the sight was clear and there was no precipitation to speak of.

In actuality, there was _nothing_ to speak of.

They had been riding in silence for 23 minutes now and it was slowly driving Liz insane. She was getting nervous, something that could only be explained by a deep sense of discomfort. Before this whole thing with Tess, she had never been uncomfortable in Max's presence. He had a way of putting her whole soul at ease.

_She only watched for three seconds, but it felt like an eternity as she recorded the nightmare, the real life nightmare, in front of her. Of Tess, with her blonde curly hair glinting in the dim light from the opened front door, merely clad in a black lacy bra, straddling Max who was in his boxers. His hands were running across her overly-exposed back, their lips moving together in a sensual make-out session._

Liz blinked the images away from her mind, feeling that familiar nausea rise in her throat again. Would she ever be able to look at Max without being reminded of his unclad state with Tess? She looked over at Max again, anxiously bunching up the bottom of her jacket in her hands, expecting to see Tess' lips on his.

Max's fingers were thrumming against the steering wheel in an irregular agitated beat and his back was as straight as an arrow. She was afraid that if she spoke he might just explode or something.

She couldn't be quiet any longer. The knowledge of what she knew, of what he had done, was suffocating her. Expecting a detonation, Liz let her fingers loosen their grip on the jacket and cleared her throat, ignored the awareness of Max's eyes flickering to her profile, and said, "How's Tess?"

She could feel his eyes glued to her profile, and without meeting his eyes she watched the car slowly drift to the side, the right-sided tires hitting the edge of the ditch. "Max!"

She looked over at him the second his eyes ripped away from her face and he, with a word of obscenity, reeled the car back into the lane. "Sorry," he mumbled.

She couldn't help but suspect that her question had rattled him, knowing that it was the sore point between them.

* * *

_Max_

Tess? Why was she wondering about Tess? Who cared about Tess? Why did she, the first time they were alone in a long time, want to talk about Tess?

"I don't know," he said, not being able to diffuse the confusion out of his tone. "Angry, I guess. That she couldn't ride with us."

"It's no wonder she's upset about that," Liz said and Max had to force himself to not repeat his mistake of staring at her and almost driving off the road.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he asked, "And why is that?"

He felt her eyes on the side of his face as she answered, lightly and evenly, "She obviously wants to spend as much time with you as possible."

He glanced at her, his eyes narrowing. She was trying to act unbothered, but her face was a little bit too smooth, too awash with feelings. "She does?"

Apparently, discussing Tess was important to Liz because she pressed on. "I would have. If I were her."

Max frowned and unease was crawling into him. "If you were her? Sorry, I don't follow."

She was biting her lower lip and he had to consciously tear his eyes back to the road. The deep-rooted attraction for her was flaring up at her movements.

"If I had been kissed like that…"

Max whipped his head towards her and almost stepped on the breaks. The car swerved to the side again, but he caught on to it himself this time, pulling it back so sharply that his left shoulder hit the driver's door and her left shoulder almost connected with his right.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this when you're driving," Liz said breathlessly. She was bracing herself with her left hand against the glove compartment, possibly expecting him to jumble the car again.

Max felt the frustration build and he looked at her sideways, suddenly wanting to scream at her. He bit back the anger and asked with moderate restraint, "Talk about _what?!_"

He noticed her face hardening before he had to look back at the road, and she had a tinge of hot anger in her voice as she answered, "I respect that it's probably none of my business. I mean, we're not together or anything, but I just thought…"

He turned to look at her, with his mouth open, prepared to word his confusion in a screaming manner, when he saw a tear roll down her cheek before she turned her face away. He choked on his anger and forced himself to calm down and clear his mind, tried to think of what Liz might have misunderstood.

Because it sure sounded like she was implying that Tess and he were together. As in _together._

"Liz. What do you think Tess means to me?"

"_He's mine," the blonde whispered darkly._

_"No," the brunette objected softly, peacefully. "He never was."_

_"Who are you?" Max asked the blonde._

_"I'm your wife," she replied with a hard face._

_He frowned. "I'm not married."_

_"You were," the blonde answered. "Until death do us part."_

_A shimmer next to the blonde pulled his attention back to the brunette and he watched her start to fade. "No," he pleaded. "No, don't go."_

_"It's just me and you now," the blonde smiled._

The image of Tess from his dreams evaporated by a shake of his head and he looked over at Liz at her non-response, adding, "I barely know Tess."

Liz's whole body was tense and he could feel darkness through their connection. Hurt and…betrayal?

"You barely know _me_," Liz whispered.

"I've known you since you were four years old," Max said simply, without missing a beat.

She turned to meet his eyes, her own widening in surprise. Before him, her expression changed and hurt swam into her chocolate colored orbs. "But Tess shares your origin. I'm _human_. I would understand if you would chose _her_. She's familiar and she understands what you're going through. What it's like to be…alien."

A humorless laugh burst across his lips and he saw offense creep into her features, which hurried his reply, "Tess doesn't know me. She doesn't care about me. She cares about a notion that we're supposed to be together-"

"Are you?" Liz pressed on bitterly. "_Are_ you supposed to be together?"

"Maybe," Max said regretfully. "But I like to think that I have a choice."

"But you chose her," Liz whispered. "I _saw_ you."

"You…" he looked sideways at her hard profile. "You what?"

"Maybe it's not something you're proud of," Liz said and put her arms around her middle, walling herself off from him. "And maybe that's why you can't talk to me anymore. But I just… I want an explanation. I want to know if I'm sacrificing my life here for nothing. If my dad is wondering where I am and if I'm okay for nothing."

Max swallowed. "You came here for me." The truth in her words hurt him. He didn't want her to give up her life just for him. He had thought it was because she was frightened of what the FBI could do to her, and maybe that was part of it, but by the sound of it she mostly left to be with him.

He was floored by the feelings spilling over him. Confusion. Gratitude. Love. Passion. Longing. Hurt. Frustration. She didn't answer his statement, but her silence spoke volumes.

"We're not nothing," Max said quietly, looking back at the road with unseeing eyes. "You and I are not nothing."

"Then why did you kiss her?" Liz whispered, her voice breaking with restrained tears.

Max's heart plummeted to his gut and with only a second of hesitation, he pulled the car off the road.

* * *

_Maria_

"Um…" Maria's gaze was locked at the side view mirror, "I think Max just pulled off the road."

Michael looked up into the rearview mirror to confirm. With a "Damn," he slammed the heels of his hands against the steering wheel before making a hasty movement to the side which rather unsteadily pulled the car to the side of the road.

* * *

_Liz_

She looked at him in surprise as the car came to an abrupt halt and his eyes were piercing and hot, angry, when he turned in his seat towards her. "Who told you that?"

She shrank back against the door reflexively and stubbornly squeezed her lips together. "No one. I _saw _you."

He shook his head, "No", and unfastened his seat belt. "I've never kissed Tess."

She felt the hot tears roll down her cheeks as anger crawled into her face and her arms tightened around her middle. "She was on top of you, half-naked, and you…you were just as eager."

Darkness roared in his eyes as he leaned in towards her and she was suddenly afraid. Afraid that it was not just the situation that was making him angry, but her. That he was angry with her. Something flickered in his eyes and the harsh edges of his expression were filed down. Which caused her to jump as he suddenly crashed a fist against his car seat.

"Sorry…" he mumbled, looking over at her with downcast eyes. With the anger seeping out of him, he repeated, "Sorry."

"You're scaring me," Liz whispered.

"It's Tess," Max said quietly, calmly now.

His statement confused her. Of course it was Tess. This whole thing was about Tess.

"No, no," Max interrupted as he caught on to the confusion in her eyes. "Not like that. I mean… I'm angry with Tess. Not you."

He raked his hands across his face and in the seconds of silenced that followed, Liz became aware of her harsh breathing and the erratic beating of her heart. "It's not just Tess' fault."

He inhaled deeply and brushed a hand through his hair before turning to face forward, where Michael and Tess were now visible through the windshield, approaching the car. "Yes. It is."

Before Michael ripped the car door open on Max's side, Max turned to Liz, fixed her eyes with his and said with determination, "I. Have. Never. Kissed. Tess."

Michael poked his head in. "Max, what the hell?"

A breathless Tess came up behind Michael. "We can't just stop like this. It would look suspicious."

"What did you do?" Michael grew still as Max directed his quiet and even question at Tess.

Tess paused, looking confused for a second, before she moved her eyes towards Liz. Her mood changed in the fraction of a second and with anger she pointed at Liz, growling, "What did she tell you?"

"No," Max said, still with calmness, something that made Liz a bit apprehensive. She had seen how angry he had just been. She had a feeling that this calm side to Max was much more dangerous than the angry one. "What. Did. You. Do?"

"She's making it up," Tess answered stubbornly and turned to scream at Liz through the windshield. "You bitch, you're making this u-"

But Tess didn't get much further than that before Max was out of the car, having almost pushed Michael over in his attempt to reach Tess. She had the chance to take two steps backwards before Max grabbed a hold of her upper arms and shook her.

He was no longer calm.

"Don't you _ever_ call her that!"

"Hey, Max," Michael said, but his voice was soft and Liz noted the insecurity and shock in his stance before she unfastened her seat belt and climbed out of the car. Maybe this wasn't a side to Max anyone was used to see.

"You planted those images in her head, didn't you?"

Liz felt the chill go through her chest and her head swam with the realization of Max's words. _Mind-warp. Tess could force images and thoughts into your mind._

Before Liz had stumbled around Tess and reached Max, he had shaken a now frightened Tess a couple of times, as if trying to shake the truth out of her. Liz put a hand on Max's arm and said calmly, "Max."

His eyes were dark again and anger ignited his face. But when he turned towards her voice, something moved in his expression and he let go of Tess. He tore his eyes away from Liz to look at Tess, who was now crying.

"You mind-raped her," Max accused through clenched teeth and Liz flinched at his choice of words.

Tess moved a trembling hand through her hair and whispered, "I didn't mean to, I just-"

"What's going on?" Isabel came up next to them, with a big-eyed Maria in tow.

"The reason why Liz has hated me lately," Max said with disgust coloring his voice and took a step back from Tess, "is because of Tess."

_I don't hate you,_ Liz's thoughts objected and looked at Max who was staring Tess down.

"How?" Maria asked.

"Tell them, Tess," Max ordered and the whole group turned stunned eyes to the red-eyed crying girl shaking between Liz and Max.

"I'm sorry," Tess blubbered.

Max didn't seem to have the patience to wait for her explanation, instead clarifying, "She had Liz see a make-out session between Tess and I."

"Ooh," Maria said quietly and it was the only thing that was said in those two minutes of silence that followed.

It was Michael who interrupted the quietus. "Well… That sucks. But really, we have to go. Before some police car decides to drive past and find it very odd that we are stopped at the side of the road."

"This is not over," Max promised, eyes digging a hole into Tess' traitorous skull and Liz swallowed with pity for the girl.

What Tess had done was horrible, but being at odds with Max was certainly not something one would wish for.

Max turned his attention to Liz and reached out his hand for her. Not knowing what else to do, she took his hand and felt the familiar spark travel up her arm. They looked to their hands in unison at the touch and Max squeezed her hand. When she looked up at him his eyes were soft and concerned and the discomfort in her heart vanished into thin air. His eyes seemed to ask if she was okay to go with him and unconsciously she nodded.

"Let's go, Tess," Michael said sharply behind them, reached between Max and Liz (forcing their hands apart) and grabbed Tess' elbow. As he pulled Tess away, Michael yelled over his shoulder, "I think there's a mall seven miles ahead. We'll stop there."

"Sure," Max answered, and with a look at Liz he hitched his head towards the car. "Let's go."


	48. Chapter 47

**CHAPTER 47**  
_Max_

He pulled the sunscreen down and looked at his amber-colored eyes in the small fitted mirror. With a touch of his finger to his temple he concentrated on the pigment of his irises. In his reflection he watched green flood the amber, like the bloom of summer flowers. He blinked twice before running his hand through his dark brown hair and letting it sprinkle with blond.  
She looked at him funny when he put the sunscreen back and he had to smile back, despite the anger against Tess having yet to recede.

"Odd seeing you as a blond," Liz stated.

He tilted his head, "Not my color?"

"I hope it's not permanent," Liz answered and a fresh blush crept up her cheeks as she dropped her eyes and mumbled, "I'd miss your eyes."

That familiar warmth filled his chest and he leaned across the shift, tugging gently on a strand of her brown hair. "Come here."

Her eyes blinked up at him and with some trepidation, she leaned into his hither. He buried his fingers in the thickness of her mane, his breath catching as he watched her eyes drift closed and her lips slightly part. He moved his hands slowly through her hair, making the strands turn copper red. It only took thirteen seconds. His hands stilled and she opened her eyes. He hadn't changed her eyes. He couldn't make himself do it.

"All done," he whispered, his breathing felt hot in his chest. He was hyperaware of her presence, of the glistening of her pink moist lips and the softness of her scalp against his fingertips. He let his hands float down the sharpness of her cheekbones, coming to a halt to cradle her face in his hands. "I'm sorry."

She looked up at him and shook her head as much as his capture would allow, before leaning her cheek into the hollow of his left palm. "No. It wasn't your fault."

"No," he said quietly, refusing her assurance as the guilt pushed on his conscience. "I'm sorry that I didn't put my own feelings of guilt aside, of not being able to protect you from the FBI, and because of that didn't have that conversation - about Tess - with you earlier. Instead, you've been forced to walk around believing that I…that Tess and I…" He swallowed back the bad taste in his mouth, before emphasizing. "I'm sorry for not being able to protect you."

Her eyes narrowed in confusion and something else. Admonishment? She brought her right hand up on top of his left and squeezed the back of his fingers. "You did."

Not feeling worthy to touch her any longer, Max gently pulled back, disentangling his hand from hers. The coldness came along with his withdrawal. "They took you. From under my nose."

Liz reached for his hand again and he let her take it. She braided her fingers with his. "But they brought me back."  
Max shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Whatever they did to you-"

"I can't remember."

"That's what scares me," Max whispered. "They could've done whatever to you and you just don't remember."

She tried a smile. "At least it's less traumatic that way."

The unfairness of the situation pressed on him. "Don't say that."

"Max," Liz said quietly and squeezed his hand. "I'm okay."

There was a quick rap on the window which made them both jump. Max looked over his shoulder at Michael who was standing, impatiently, outside the car window. With an annoyed movement he pointed towards the mall and then to his wrist, which had never worn a watch, but the message was implied nonetheless.

"Right right," Max mumbled and turned back to Liz. He reached across her shoulders, noticing how she froze at his closeness, and pulled up the hood to her sweater to cover her hair. Tugging on the drawstring he encouraged her closer. Her face was only an inch from his when he stopped, her breath being warm and sweet across his own lips. She looked up at him through thick lashes, a questioning look in her eyes.

He grabbed onto her gaze and said quietly, but not without a tinge of command baked into it, "Don't leave my side in there, okay?"

Mutely, she shook her head, her eyes unwavering. He closed the distance between them with a gentle tug of the strings and pressed his lips to her forehead.

_Time seemed to slow and dim, the sounds of the busy mall were muted as he pressed his lips against hers._

_He became aware of every single detail of her being. Of the pulse throbbing against the heel of his hand as he pushed his fingers into her wig and how the small hairs on her arms rose at attention. He had to stop himself from pulling the wig off her, the longing to feel Liz's soft real hair around his fingers burning in him._

_Her lips were soft and her reciprocal was hesitant at first (no wonder since he had practically attacked her), but when she started softening under his assault, angling her head to provide him better access to her mouth, and pushing up close against him, there was a fierce burn in his body. He felt his breathing pick up and the desire rise._

He let the kiss linger as his memory brought him back to the one and only time he had kissed her. His prolonged kiss on her forehead was probably a little long to be considered platonic concern. But both of them probably knew by now that they were not just platonic. They never had been.

He pulled back and waited for her to look up at him. "Remember? Keep your head down. Don't do anything that will draw attention. It's a simple in-and-out kind of thing."

She inhaled deeply and pulled back, the drawstrings sliding through the loose grip of his fingers. She arranged the hood around her face, collected herself and nodded. "Let's do it."

* * *

_Special Agent Joel Martin_

_"Ms. Parker?"_

Joel leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. In front of him was the recording of Elizabeth Parker's questioning. Joel was impatiently drumming a pen against the armrest, having seen the documentation of the inquisition twice already. He wanted - no, _needed_ \- to figure out more about where the suspects were going, what their ultimate plan was. He was hoping to find something he might have missed on the recording.

Elizabeth was just waking up on the screen and he watched himself lean over her. The truth serum caused heavy sedation as it had reached its maximum dose, but as soon as it started tapering off, she became lucid and was coherent enough to answer questions. That was the state they were in now, on the screen.

"_Where am I?" Ms. Parker slurred, her head lolling from side to side, her gaze unfocused._

Joel watched her hands tighten into fists in the restraints and was yet again surprised at how different it was to _see_ an interrogation (especially where he himself was the lead interrogator) to actually _experience_ it in person.

"_Ms. Parker? I need to ask you a couple of questions."_

_"No," she murmured, weakly fighting the restraints. "No questions."_

_"Oh yes, Ms. Parker," his voice was amused. "I have a lot to ask you. That's why you are here. To answer my questions."_

_"No. I want to go home."_

_"Ms. Parker," Joel called, grabbing her chin to stop her movements and get her to focus on his face. "When did you meet Max Evans for the first time?"_

_She grimaced, her face strained in fighting the serum. "At an office party."_

But even from the recording, Joel could see the sweat breaking out on her forehead. She was good. Joel had been told that it was practically impossible to fight the serum, but somehow Elizabeth Parker was accomplishing telling half-lies.

He knew it was a lie, because he asked her again - and got a different answer. "_When did you _first _meet Max Evans?"_

_She gasped, before pressing her lips together, her whole body trembling with tension. And just as if a ball stumbled out of her grasp, she almost blurted out, "At the accident."_

_"When your mom died?" Joel asked for clarification._

_"Yes," Ms. Parker forced out._

_"What happened during your first meeting? What did Max Evans do to you?"_

_"He…" a tear slid down her cheek and her fists tightened against her sides again. "He healed me."_

_"He-"_

Joel watched the tension set in his own back before the recorded version of him got out, "_He healed you?"_

_"Yes," she answered with a sob. "I was dead, but he resuscitated me."_

_"How? How did he do this, Ms. Parker?"_

_"He can heal with his hands. There's some-" she pressed her lips together again, still fighting the serum, "-some type of energy in his hands. I don't know how it works. He put his hands on me and I was whole again. I was alive."_

_"Did you have any relation to each other after the accident?"_

_"Not until the office party. I didn't remember him. But I remember his mother. She was at the scene of the accident."_

_"What more can he do, Ms. Parker?"_

_"He has premonitions. He can see the future. But, as I've understood it, only when it concerns me."_

_"That's a bit odd, don't you think, Ms. Parker?"_

_"It surprised me too. But we seem to have some type of connection. Sometimes I think I can feel what he feels and I wonder if he can feel what I'm feeling."_

_"Is he a telepath? An empath?"_

_She shook her head, frowning. "I don't think so."_

_"Any other abilities?"_

_"Not that I know of."_

_"When you were attacked by David Perkins; what happened?"_

_"Max pushed him off me. But just before David was lifted off me, I saw a neon green light above me. I thought I had imagined it. Until you asked about it when you questioned me."_

_"Ah… So David Perkins might've been telling the truth. Is that so, Ms. Parker?"_

_She swallowed. "He probably did."_

_"Do_ you_ have any abilities, Ms. Parker?"_

_Even under the influence, she laughed slightly, her body trembling. "No."_

_"Is Max Evans human?"_

Her nails scraped against the metallic surface of the restraining chair as she fought against telling him the truth. In retrospect, Joel found her strength impressive. Her need to keep Max Evans a secret had to be very strong.

"_He doesn't think so," she whispered brokenly, more tears falling down her cheeks. "He thinks he's from another planet, but he doesn't know for sure. He doesn't know anything about his past. He woke up in a cave, as a four-year-old, together with his sister."_

Joel could still remember the thrill running through him at Ms. Parker's revelation. "_Isabel Evans?"_

_"Yes," Ms. Parker croaked. "She has abilities too."_

_"She's alien?"_

_"She believes so."_

_"What can she do? What are her abilities?"_

_"I don't know," Ms. Parker answered. "I don't know." And she almost smiled at this, as if she was relieved that there was some piece of information she wasn't able to disclose. Something that he couldn't force out of her._

_"Are there any more like Max and Isabel?"_

_"Michael," Ms. Parker breathed. "Their friend: Michael. And Tess. Can't remember her last name."_

_"Michael Guerin and Theresa Harding?"_

_"Yes."_

_"What are their abilities?"_

_"I don't know what Michael can do. But Tess… She can make you see things that aren't real."_

_"What does that mean?"_

_"She invades your mind and projects images in your head. If she wants you to think that you're in a jungle, you will."_

Joel remembered the elation he had felt, and could still taste, from finding out about Theresa Harding's abilities. It was a type of ability that spoke only of destruction, of doing harm, in contrast to Max Evans' healing ability.

"_Ms. Parker. What is their agenda? What do they want from us?"_

_"Nothing," Ms. Parker answered softly and for the first time she met Joel's eyes._

Joel still remembered that moment; he would probably always remember it. How her big brown eyes, glistening with tears and conflicting emotions, had met his gaze straight on and repeated, "_Nothing."_

_"Are their mission to take over the planet?"_

_"No."_

_"Will they start a war with us?"_

_"No."_

_"Are they after our natural resources?"_

_"No."_

_"Are they aiming to exterminate the human race?"_

_"No."_

_"Ms. Parker. I need you to answer my questions truthfully."_

_"Do you think I have the ability to lie, after what you injected me with?" Ms. Parker said hotly, fierce anger scintillating in her eyes._

_He was quiet for a moment, before continuing, "Where are you heading, Ms. Parker? You're currently on the run; where are you going?"_

_"I don't know. We're driving north, but I don't know the final destination."_

Joel had asked some more questions after that, but had soon realized that Elizabeth Parker had exhausted her knowledge. Joel sharply remembered the conversation with his superior after the questioning; how he had emphasized that they needed to bring in the aliens themselves for questioning; how the aliens were the only ones in possession of the knowledge, probably not having shared that much with Elizabeth Parker about their real plans.

But to Joel's frustration, the agents of the Special Unit had refused to take the aliens into custody, claiming that it was too dangerous. Without any more information, they didn't know exactly what the aliens could do and the harm they might do if one of them got captured. The ones still on the run might draw on resources; contact other aliens, and a war was suddenly upon them. They couldn't risk it.

Joel tried to remind them of the fact that right now they knew exactly where the suspects were. That they were probably staying put to await Elizabeth Parker's return. That same opportunity might not present itself again.

But his superior had been relentless in his decision, telling Joel that they needed to keep track of the group - which shouldn't be too hard from now on, since their current location was known - and that they would strike when they were more prepared.

In his frustration, like a small child not getting their way, Joel had ordered for a message to be written on Liz's back, in black permanent marker, to let his suspects know that the FBI wasn't done yet, that they shouldn't get too comfortable. Joel wanted them scared, wanted them to look over their shoulder. The last thing he wanted was for them to feel like they had won, just because Ms. Parker had been returned to them and they themselves hadn't been captured.

It was in the midst of remembering the black letters on Ms. Parker's pale skin, while he watched Elizabeth Parker be sedated onscreen for her drop-off at the motel from which she had been abducted, that Agent Powell stepped into his office.

Joel hurriedly pulled his legs off the desk and stood up, "Agent Powell!"

"Agent Martin," Agent Powell greeted with a nod, looking ridiculously calm compared to Joel's flustered appearance. "Keeping yourself busy?" He nodded towards the screen and Joel gave a sheepish smile.

"Yes," Joel replied. "I'm trying to find some more information on the suspects' plan, sir."

"Well, it might not be necessary, Agent," Agent Powell replied.

Joel looked at him confused. "Sir?"

"Our scientists have been successful in the manufacturing of a drug that isolates and inhibits the functions of the frontal lobe. The frontal lobe is the main component of problem solving, creative thought, intellect, abstract thinking, physical reactions and muscle movements. To name a few." Agent Powell shrugged. "According to the scientists, the frontal lobe is the most likely part of the brain involved in the suspects' abilities. This is a major break-through. It's the reason why we didn't move in on trying to capture them before. Now we can do it safely, inhibiting their abilities and lessening the risk of them contacting someone else - telepathically or what not."

Joel had been listening to Agent Powell's account with escalating excitation. "That's fantastic, sir."

"We're moving in today. According to my agents the group is right now entering a shopping mall."

"Do you need me there, sir?" Joel asked, almost wishing that he could be on site, see the expression on the suspects' faces. But especially, see the expression on Max Evans' face - who had seemed so full of himself, so sure of himself, when they had previously met.

"I need you to prepare for their arrival here, Agent Martin," Agent Powell said. "We have some tough days ahead of us."

* * *

_Max_

They had split up in teams of two, with the task of finding blankets, water bottles, flashlights, ready-to-eat type of food and paper towels. Anything to minimize their future trips to the store as they now had to focus on going underground as much as possible. They hadn't realized when they had stopped at the first mall they encountered that it had been the largest shopping mall in North America, but it didn't take them long to grasp its magnitude. Max and Michael had debated back and forth about whether going to such a large shopping mall was such a good idea when trying to be inconspicuous or if they should rather find a smaller, anonymous mall. They both reached the conclusion that they would be more anonymous at that size of a mall where they could more easily blend in with a large visitor number.

Max and Liz were in the bedding department of Target, when the commotion started at the entrance of the store. Max noticed by how Liz froze suddenly while feeling the texture of a blanket. His eyes traveled in the direction of her stare and saw the men. With a sinking ice-cold feeling he read the letters on the back of the mens' jackets: F.B.I.

"Shit," he mumbled and immediately looked away, afraid that the men would look over and see his face. Simultaneously, he pulled at Liz's elbow, whispering harshly, "Don't look."

She stumbled against him and when she turned her eyes towards him, her back now towards the men of the government, they were glistening with fear. "Max…"

He grabbed her hand. "We have to hide."

She whipped her head back and forth, searching the surroundings. "Where? There's nowhere to hide."

She was right. They were in the middle of a very well lit department store and the only exit was the one now occupied by seven FBI-agents. The adrenaline was pouring into his veins as he scanned the surroundings, telling Liz to, "Keep your head down."

"They can't recognize us," Liz whispered, bending her head, staring at the floor, her body as stiff as a violin string.

"We can't take that risk," Max said and pulled on her hand. "Over here."

He had watched an employee disappear around a corner; maybe it was an 'Employees Only' area.

"Act natural," he told Liz as he tugged her along. She was too tense, nervously looking around herself. Too conspicuous. He squeezed her hand and told her gently, "Relax."

She took a deep breath and obviously made an effort to will herself to do just that, because her body softened next to him. Max looked over her head towards the entrance to the store, where the FBI-agents had started to spread out, pouring into the store like ants attacking a picnic buffet.

Liz and Max passed under a sign reading 'Employees Only' and ended up in a white short corridor. There was a door to the right, with the sign 'Staff' and to their left was a small impractical hole in the wall, partly hidden behind a rack of clothes on wheels.

"We can't go in there," Liz said, pointing towards the door marked 'Staff', voicing Max's mental conclusion.

"No, we can't." Max looked over his shoulder at the agents that were slowly circling them in, like animals in a holding paddock. Going back was not an option. He nudged Liz in the side. "Get into that corner."

Liz did as told and dropped to the white-tiled floor, pulling her legs up tight against her chest to make herself as compact as possible. Max shot a final look out over the store before he sat down next to Liz. The clothing rack was partly covering them, making them difficult to spot if you weren't actively looking, which would hopefully hide them from any unsuspecting staff member that might walk out of the opposite door.

Max felt the nervous heat of Liz's body against his as he pressed up against her, trying to hide as much as possible of his body behind the not ideal canopy while he fished the cell phone out of his pocket. Expertly he searched out Michael's cell phone number and hit 'Call'.

Michael picked up after the first ring. "Fuck, Max. Now is not such a good ti-"

"FBI's here," Max interrupted in a hushed tone. "Where are you?"

"They're everywhere, Maxwell. We're screwed."

_Fuck._ "Is there anywhere for you to hide?"

"We're trying to find an exit. Where are you?"

"Target."

"Have you called Izzy?"

Max's heart clenched at the mention of his sister. She was somewhere else in the mall. With Tess. "Not yet."

"We might have to split up. Leave in separate car- Shit. Max. I'll have to call you ba-" And the phone call was disconnected.

"Michael?" Liz whispered.

Max let his head fall heavily back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut against the nightmare that was his life. "He's in trouble."

"FBI's all over the mall?" Liz asked quietly and there was naked fear in her voice.

He wanted to lie and say something to calm her down, but there was not reason to hide the truth. He was about to answer her when the sharp bark of a dog cut through their conversation, making them both jump. He felt his whole body tense. They might have been able to hide from humans, but not dogs.

He looked towards the dead end of the corridor. They had to get out of here. His eyes flickered towards the 'Staff'-door. He considered what the room might be. Possibly a lunch area for employees. Going in there they might encounter employees on a break. It couldn't be much worse than facing the FBI and vicious canines.

If he remembered the map of the building correctly, the store should be located at one end of the mall. If they were lucky, there might be an exit on the other side of that door. He could hear the stomping of feet and the excited yapping of dogs picking up on a trail.

Liz had squeezed her eyes shut when he moved to put his mouth close to her ear, afraid that the men might be so close right now that they might hear their conversation. "We need to move."

She came alive beneath him and nodded. Max put a silencing finger to his lips before pointing towards the door across the hallway. They would without a doubt be seen crossing that corridor. Max felt Liz get to her feet unsteadily and turned his face back to her nervous one.

Without a moment of hesitation, he gentle pressed his lips to hers. She was shocked at his move, he could feel it in the stiffness and unresponsiveness of the reciprocation, and just as she relaxed into him he pulled back.

There was no time.

His lips a breath from hers, he whispered, "On three."

She nodded in acknowledgement and together they mutely mimed the numbers, before straightening from their crouched position and making a run for the white door across the hall.


	49. Chapter 48

**CHAPTER 48**  
_Liz_

She didn't turn to look behind her.

Tried to ignore the increased barking of the dogs.

Attempted to block out the orders from the FBI screaming 'Federal Agent!', 'Freeze', 'Stop right there', 'I'm armed'.

She focused on the pressure of his hand against hers, of her fingers interlaced with his, on putting one foot in front of the other.

The lunch area moved by in a blur and she barely registered the green 'Exit'-sign above the door before they pushed through it. There were metallic stairs outside, only three steps, the perforated ones that enabled you to see through to the ground.

She stumbled, almost fell, as he pulled her down the steps. She ran into his back as he came to a complete stop.

"Melissa?"

Liz looked up and saw the open side door of a white van twenty feet in front of them. Outside of it was a girl, about their age, impatiently waving Max and Liz towards her.

"I'll explain later," she yelled. "Get in!"

Max didn't need much time to go over his options. A nanosecond of confusion passed before he pulled on her arm and together they ran towards the car. Liz didn't miss the suspicion and disproval on the woman's face as her eyes flickered over Liz. Liz got the message loud and clear that she wasn't welcome before Max with a sharp tug on her arm basically lifted her off the ground and she stumbled over the edge of the car, falling to her knees inside.

"Max," Isabel breathed from the dark inside of the van and Liz blinked to catch Isabel throw her arms around her brother.

Breathlessly, Liz looked around the interior of the van while Melissa jumped out and slammed the door shut behind her, before getting in at the driver's side.

They were all there. Tess, Isabel, Maria and Michael.

Liz scooted away, hating to have someone behind her back and scooted up with her back against the metallic inside of the door.

"That was Melissa," Max said, his voice filled with confusion. He was just getting out of Isabel's hug and he was shaking his head in incomprehension. "What is she doing here?"

"We had no choice but to trust her," Maria said. She was sitting next to Michael, desperately clutching his hand. "We were being chased and she came up in front of us."

"Isabel said that she works with you," Michael said.

"She's…" Max shook his head, a deep frown on his forehead as he glanced towards the front of the car, where the strange woman was maneuvering the van like she had spent her life driving get-away vehicles. "She's an EMT."

"I know that she's your friend," Isabel said, having talked to Melissa a lot of times herself. Melissa had even helped her when Max was having a seizure. "But can we trust her?"

"I guess we have to," Max mumbled, putting a hand across his eyes. Liz watched his shoulders rise in a deep sigh. Liz glanced to her left, towards the driver's seat. She was sure that they woman could hear their discussion, but apparently now was not the time for any explanations.

The van moved sharply to the side and the back of Liz's head slammed against the door.

"Yikes," Maria murmured, bumping into Michael.

Liz found a wide lanyard attached to the floor by a clasp next to her thigh and grabbed onto it for support. As she looked up, she saw Max moving towards her. He pushed up next to her and grabbed her free hand with his.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

"Yeah," she breathed, not sure if she was telling the truth or not. "You?"

"Getting there," he answered and brought their entwined hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. A shiver of pleasure ran through her and she couldn't stop the small smile on her lips. He looked down at her, caught her smile and returned it with a small smile of his own.

"Who is she, Max?" Liz asked, catching his eyes.

"She's a friend," he answered seriously. Simply. "I think we can trust her."

"Does she know about you?"

"Nobody knows about us," Max said with a lopsided smile. "Well, except for you and Maria."

"Isn't it very odd that she came here? To this very spot and picked us up when we needed to escape? How did she know? And why isn't she worried about being our accomplice?"

"All very good questions," Michael piped up where he was seated across from them, reminding Liz that she was not alone with Max. The rest of the group was quiet, probably all listening to their conversation.

Suddenly self-conscious, Liz fell into silence and, shy of a squeeze of his hand against hers, Max remained quiet too. Except for a hushed conversation between Maria and Michael, which Liz didn't have the energy to focus on, the van was quiet; its passengers exhausted and shocked from the day's events.

_Max_

"Explain."

Melissa had gotten rid of the agents on their trail, somehow, and they were now parked on a gravel road off the main road, surrounded by trees. Melissa had just opened the side door to the van and let them all out, Tess and Isabel opting to stay seated on the edge of the side entrance to the van.

Melissa crossed her arms across her chest (Max had never seen her act so coldly) and hitched her chin in the direction of Liz. Ignoring Max's question, she said, "She doesn't belong here."

From the emotional roller-coaster provided by the day they'd just had, Max's anger wasn't far away. He felt it instantly bubble up to the surface as he stepped closer to Liz and took her cold hand in his. "She's with me."

Melissa looked at him. "She doesn't belong here."

"As far as we know, neither do you," Michael said.

The answer was delivered as a simple statement. "She's human."

Max felt his stomach churn. _She knows._ "Liz is one of us." He looked over at Maria. "And so is Maria."

"Maria's pregnant", Melissa stated, as if it was general knowledge. "She's carrying a hybrid. She is to be protected along with you." She turned hard eyes on Liz. "There's however no reason for us to risk everything to bring this girl along."

Melissa took a step towards Liz, which made Max move in front of Liz, putting himself between Liz and his work colleague. Melissa stopped and her eyes remained hard as she etched them into Max. Max felt like he should wither at her look, but nothing could make him move away from Liz and put her in a vulnerable position. Except for Maria, Liz was alone with four aliens (possible five), which put her in a ridiculously exposed state.

"I won't tell you what you want to hear as long as she's here," Melissa said.

"She knows about us," Max said. "I presume you do too?"

"She doesn't need to know what I'm about to tell you," Melissa argued tensely.

"Put Liz in the van or something, so we can find out what this woman is talking about," Michael sighed and Max felt Liz move behind him. He turned to watch Michael pull on Liz's elbow to forcefully move her towards the van. Liz's eyes were locked with Max, large and fearful in her pale face.

"Michael, what are-" Max protested, but before anyone could react, Melissa had acted on the moment of distraction and closed the distance between her and Liz.

Melissa raised a hand to Liz's forehead and Max's "No!" was followed by Liz's body slumping to the ground having been claimed by unconsciousness.

Max felt himself go ice-cold as the connection to Liz snapped, and governed by pure instinct - fueled by a hot wrath - Max stretched his hand out in the direction of Melissa.

Before Liz's slack body reached the ground, Melissa was flying backwards through the air, thrown by the energy from Max's outstretched hand. She hit the trunk of a tree as Max manifested his green shield around himself and Liz, falling to his knees next to her prone body and pulling her head up in his lap. Her head lolled to the side as he tried to simultaneously focus on keeping the protective shield up while searching Liz's body for injuries.

His heart was hammering in his chest at the unresponsiveness of Liz's body, of how her body was like dead weight, of the paleness of her face. Fighting the panic building at the back of his throat, ignoring the cold sweat that was breaking out on his forehead, he pressed his fingers to her jugular: finding a pulse, alas weak and thready.

He attempted to search her body, even without the connection between them, but the strain of keeping the shield up at the same time as taking care of Liz was quickly sapping his energy levels.

He looked at Melissa through the green veil, drowning in hatred. "_What did you do to her?!"_

Melissa was slowly getting to her feet, holding her hands up in front of her in a gesture of resignation. Maybe that was the best thing to do, considering that both Michael and Isabel were posed with their right hands stretched out towards her, prepared to fire if she decided to make the wrong move.

"Nothing," Melissa answered and she sounded shaken.

But Max didn't have the patience for her feelings.

Releasing the protective shield, he gently lowered Liz's upper body to the ground and got to his feet, advancing on Melissa quickly. Melissa shied back against the tree trunk that had stopped the throw of her body just a moment earlier, as Max stopped in front of her. He looked into the eyes of the person that he had considered a friend, with whom he had shared laughs and who had been a real support during bad days.

"Tell me what you did." There was nothing gentle about his tone. It was deadly.

"I'd tell him, if I were you," Maria said from behind them.

Melissa briefly glanced at the group behind Maria before she squared her shoulders and regained strength to her voice. "There's something wrong with her."

"There wasn't, before you touched her," Isabel said.

Max slammed a fist against the trunk, half an inch from Melissa's face. She jumped, but kept her eyes connected with his.

"What?" Max demanded.

"She has two minds," Melissa answered.

Max didn't have time to reflect over Melissa's words as Isabel forced his attention back towards Liz. "Max! She's seizing."

Without a word, he left Melissa and ran back to Liz. Her head was moving from side to side, her fists clenching and unclenching next to her body while non-sensical words were spilling over her lips. "Na kuuawa mtoto wangu. Na kuuawa mtoto wangu."

Isabel folded her arms around her middle and asked in a small voice, "What is she saying?"

Max cradled Liz's cheek with his hand and shook his head, feeling helpless and frustrated. "Nothing. It doesn't make any sense."

"No. It does." The group turned to Melissa, who had silently moved to stand next to them.

"It's gibberish," Maria protested.

Max stretched out his hand towards Melissa in warning and said coldly, "That's close enough."

Melissa stopped and met Max's eyes. "Is this the girl you saved when you were little?"

Max looked from Liz to Melissa, his hand lowering in confusion. "How do you know about that?"

"I know more about you than you think," Melissa said wistfully and looked at Liz, her voice turning gentle as she said. "Jina lako ni nani?"

"Aislin", Liz mumbled and Max felt his heart skip in dread. Aislin. _Aislin._

Turning to Melissa, Max grabbed her wrist and demanded, "What did you ask her?" while Isabel asked, "What language is that?"

"She's speaking Antarian," Melissa looked at the group. "_Your_ language."

"What did you ask her?" Max asked again, feeling his restraint falling apart. He had seen Liz in his dreams and he had heard the name in his head; Aislin. But it had been a dream. Liz was not some girl called Aislin, his mind had mixed it up.

"I asked for her name," Melissa answered simply.

"What did she say? Earlier?" Maria asked.

"Zan," Liz whispered, her voice breaking in sobs. "Zan?"

Melissa looked at Max and said, like she was only talking to him, "Earlier, she said, 'You killed my baby'."

"Upendo wangu," Liz mumbled.

"She's speaking to you," Melissa said to Max and he shivered with her words. _Zan._ Something about that word sounded familiar.

"What's happening to her?" Max asked weakly and took a hold of one of Liz's hands. Her hand immediately softened in his grip and her agitated movements calmed slightly.

"I'm sorry," Melissa mumbled, "I wanted to sedate her, so that we could speak in private. But apparently, by sedating Liz, I awoke Aislin."

Isabel laughed, but stopped abruptly as she saw the seriousness on Melissa's face. Looking around the group for support in the ridicule, Isabel asked, "You're joking, right?"

"I never thought this was possible," Melissa said, mostly to herself. "I've never heard of anything like this."

"Bring her back," Max said quietly but forcefully. He was not interested in history lessons at the moment. Liz was obviously in pain, writhing on the hard ground next to him, tears running down her cheeks, her eyes open but unseeing.

"Are you saying that she's possessed?" Isabel asked incredulously.

"In a manner of speaking," Melissa reluctantly agreed. "Your friend inhabits two minds."

"Bring her back," Max repeated, even more demanding.

"I'll try," Melissa sighed and dropped to her knees on the other side of Liz. Max had to struggle to keep himself from pushing Melissa away.

Grabbing Liz's free hand, Melissa mumbled, "Aislin?" Liz turned her blank eyes towards Melissa's voice. "Mimi haja wewe kwenda kulala. Mimi haja ya kuzungumza na Liz."

Liz wailed softly, "No, mtoto wangu."

"Mimi kukusaidia kuokoa mtoto wako ... Lakini unahitaji niruhusu nizungumze na Liz."

To Max's surprise, Liz relaxed on the ground, her eyes falling closed. "What did you say?"

Melissa looked at Max worriedly, "I told her that I needed her to go to sleep. That I needed to speak to Liz."

"What the fuck…?" Michael mumbled, standing over Liz's head.

There was rapid eye movement beneath Liz's eyelids before they flew open. Her gaze was confused before she focused on Max's face. "Max?"

Max felt his body sigh with relief and exhaustion. On instinct he bent down, put his hands around the back of her shoulders and crushed her upper body up against his. "Thank God." He didn't know how much more of this drama he could handle for one day.

"Melissa, is it?" Michael asked dryly as Max pressed a kiss to Liz's forehead. "You've got some explaining to do."


	50. Chapter 49

**CHAPTER 49**  
_Maria_

"You were the beloved Royal Four of Antar."

Maria felt Michael's hands tightened around her middle, across where their baby rested, as Melissa started talking.

It had become night and they had shut themselves into the van, the sporadic and somewhat spooky lights of three flashlights positioned on the metal flooring casting off shadows on the listeners and the teller. Maria looked around the group: at Max who had laid his jacket around Liz's shaking body and had positioned an arm around her shoulder while she rested her head tiredly against his shoulder: at Isabel who was hugging her knees to her chest, her face dirty and weary as she rested her head on the top of her knees: at Tess, who was seated the furthest away from them, as if she felt the great divide between her and the rest of the group since Max had found out about her betrayal. Tess hadn't spoken a word since Max had confronted her. At least not to the group. Maybe she had said something to Isabel when they were together in the mall earlier.

The newest addition to the group was sitting in the center, cross-legged, with the attention of three aliens and two humans. Her hair was curly and, with her ordinary clothes, she looked like a regular twenty-something girl. But the words coming out of her mouth were everything but regular.

"You, Zan," Melissa nodded towards Max and Maria looked at her best friend wearily as Melissa continued, directing her gaze towards Isabel, "and you, Vilandra, were the children of our great king, Demarcus. He was a very beloved man and the majority of the Antarians were loyal to him. He had a younger brother called Khivar, who was quite the opposite of his brother. His political views were controversial and he wasn't afraid to share them. But as long as Demarcus was alive, Khivar would never have the chance to rule Antar."

Melissa took a deep breath before continuing, "Our king grew sick with an Antarian disease similar to the bubonic plague on Earth and there was no cure. This fueled the hopes of the opposition that Khivar might be able to take to the throne. The only problem was Demarcus' son. If a prince had reached adulthood - which in human translation meant around 17-18 years of age - upon the death of the king, the throne would be passed onto him. If not, the throne would be passed onto the next alternate adult relative."

"Khivar," Isabel mumbled.

Melissa nodded. "Right."

"I think I've seen this movie," Michael muttered into Maria's hair.

"But Ma- _Zan_ reached adulthood _before_…?" Maria guessed.

Melissa nodded again. "He did. He was on the throne for a mere two days before there was an attempt at his life - the first one. He survived, thanks to proficient guards, but it made everyone aware of the possible threat posed against the new rulers of Antar. It made a lot of citizens wary and a general unease was spreading through the population. The royal advisors came up with a plan of strengthening the throne by having Zan marry a noble girl from a well-respected family."

"Tess," Max said quietly and Maria noted how Liz stiffened next to Max.

"Her name was Ava," Melissa said softly and smiled encouragingly at Tess in the background of the group. Maria didn't turn her head to look at Tess. It was too uncomfortable at the moment.

"Ava was young, only 15 or so," Melissa continued, "and didn't really have a choice about the marriage. Neither did Zan. It was rumored that Zan had already given his heart to someone else: A farmer girl. There were even rumors that this girl was pregnant with Zan's child, but none of the rumors were ever confirmed. Well, at least not until that last battle… But I'll get to that."

"What happened?" Isabel whispered as Melissa paused.

Melissa brushed a red curl off her forehead and wet her lips before continuing, "The nation was feeling increasingly uncertain about the new king. They all loved Zan, had watched him grow from a toddler to a young prince to a respected adolescent, who was now set to rule their world. But due to the increasing threat from the opposition, Zan was kept mostly hidden from the public. His announcements were aired from a secret position in the castle and he made no public appearances. With the rise of the opposition being so real amongst the people, the former King's loyal followers were either changing sides or growing increasingly quieter, afraid of being persecuted by the opposition."

"But the royals must've had more power still, must've been able to get rid of the opposition," Michael objected.

Melissa smiled wistfully. "You were Rath." Maria felt herself stiffen in Michael's arms and his upper body grew rigid against her back. "And you thought the same thing then as you do now."

"Who was I?" Michael whispered and Maria felt a chill go through her body. There was something very surreal about listening to someone speak of your lover's former life and identity and knowing that it was probably true. That Michael had lived before.

"You were head commander. A natural at it, actually."

If Maria had turned around and looked at Michael at that point, she would have seen his eyes glow with interest. Michael had never felt important in his Earth-bound life.

"Something of a hot-head though," Melissa smiled and Maria felt herself match that smile in recognition as Isabel and Max chuckled softly. "You were young to be top commander, but you had worked yourself up the ladder quickly. You were also the trusted friend of Zan and you would give your life for your friend and king."

Maria felt her eyes tear as she looked over at Max who was looking slightly uncomfortable with the tale of deep devotion between men. Maria knew that Max's display of discomfort was because Rath and Zan's story was so similar to Max and Michael's.

"Rath did everything in the book, and outside of it, to dispel the power of the opposition and give the power back to his king. But the opposition had been working for years to infiltrate even the highest commands of the royal office. Rath and his army were fighting a losing battle that started long before he was born."

"What happened?" Max asked and Maria reacted to the fearful timbre of his voice. She felt it too. The fear. They all knew that something bad had happened, otherwise they wouldn't be sitting here on Earth. The aliens she loved so much would be living their life on Antar and she, the girl miraculously cured from cancer, would be dead.

"To fully understand what happened, you must know that everyone of royal blood on Antar had special abilities. Those same abilities have been activated in you in this life, which means that Zan was able to heal, Ava could confuse enemies by making them see things that weren't there," Maria felt goosebumps across her body as she thought about how Tess had used those powers even in this life, "and Vilandra could figure out the strategic plans of enemies by visiting their dreams."

"What about Rath?" Michael asked.

"Rath was not born of royal blood," Melissa said. "Therefore his abilities were not unique. Everyone on Antar had some basic abilities that here on Earth would be considered impossible but which were considered normal on Antar, no different than being able to sing."

Michael must have looked disappointed, because Melissa gave him a empathic smile, "Of course, just like some people are tone-deaf and some are opera singers, there were different degrees of how well you utilized your powers. Rath was exceptional in using what he had. He was a crisp strategic thinker, naturally suspicious, and could sharpen his aim to hit anything."

"Destructive abilities?" Michael murmured, disappointed. He already knew that his only power basically meant that he could blow things up, which was ridiculous compared to the other aliens' powers.

"_Protective_ abilities," Melissa corrected and Maria sent her a grateful smile.

Melissa smiled back with a soft understanding nod before continuing, "Because of Zan's healing abilities, he was instinctively interested in medicine which meant that he had spent quite a lot of time in the Royal Healing Facility, even long before his father died. He was actually intimately involved in trying to find a cure for his dying father. Working alongside physicians and Antar's best researchers, Zan came up with the idea of cloning someone's essence."

"Huh?" Michael said.

"Zan worked on copying someone's…" Melissa searched for the right word, "…soul. Whatever makes you_you_. All of your thoughts, memories, personality traits copied and saved."

"He…" Max cleared his throat, "I mean, _I_, figured it out, didn't I?"

"It's the reason why you're here," Melissa confirmed.

"So what? Our essence got copied onto some kind of USB and plugged into a human?" Michael asked impatiently.

"Something like that," Melissa answered. "I'm not a physician, so I don't know the details, but Zan put Rath on a special mission to find suitable hosts for accepting their essence, in case of emergency."

"'In case of emergency'?" Isabel asked.

"In case of our deaths," Max translated quietly.

Melissa nodded gravely. "Exactly. It was no secret to Zan or the royal guards that their lives were threatened. And if they were to be killed, Khivar would be the next one on the throne, which couldn't happen."

"Why not put their essence into an Antarian?" Liz asked. Maria turned surprised eyes to Liz. She was not the only one who was surprised at Liz's involvement in the conversation.

Melissa's face showed slight disapproval at the question and Maria wondered why Melissa was still showing resentment towards Liz.

"Why transport them away from Antar, away from the war, to Earth?" Liz continued.

Everyone looked at Melissa, obviously also wanting to know the answer to that question.

Melissa sighed. "Zan tried. He wanted to do just that. Put his essence into some anonymous farmer, who would give their body up for the royal war, so that the king could hide in plain sight. But it wasn't possible. Something clashed with putting Antarian essence into Antarian bodies. The bodies rejected the essence, recognized it as not self. So they turned their search outside of Antar. It was just a week before the uprising when Rath and his army discovered Earth. Earth, which had a similar atmosphere to Antar and where homo sapiens looked very similar to Antarians."

Melissa shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "The plan was to send the Royal Four, as you were called, to Earth while the royal army fought the resistance. It was always believed that the royal army would win, they had more heads, and if the distraction of protecting the Royal Four was removed it would be an easy win. But the uprising came too soon. None of the Royal Four could stand by and watch as their army went into war, as the opposition slaughtered their nation."

"They went into battle," Maria whispered. Her lips felt dry and she was shaking. It was as if she was about to hear how her boyfriend died - even though he was very much alive - seated behind her. His warm arms tightened around her in comfort.

"Yes, they did. Zan went straight to a close-by village to protect the farmers. But in retrospect, it's been discussed that Zan was actually going there to protect a girl." "What about Ava?" Liz whispered. "Where was she?"

"She was too young to fight. She wanted to, and she contributed with her abilities in many situations, but Zan placed her in the healing facility for the copying procedure before he left the castle to go to village."

"He was protecting her," Liz said thoughtfully.

Melissa looked insulted. "Of course he did. Zan was very protective, very loyal, very caring. He was a pacifist and wanted to save his people from war completely. But of course, that was not possible. He could only save the people closest to him."

"Not Aislin," Maria objected and she got the chill of Melissa's look.

"No," Melissa said tightly. "Zan was found, on the brink of death, close to a beautiful girl in ill-fitted patchy clothes just outside of the village he had gone to defend. The girl was dead. Rumors say that she was covered in blood, that she had been with child but was no longer, and that Zan was holding onto her. Apparently, the men that got to him first had troubles separating the dying king from the girl's body. He wouldn't let her go."

"It was Aislin?" Max croaked and Maria looked at him with sympathy. Max's face was white as a sheet and he was holding tightly onto Liz's hand.

Melissa cast Liz a fleeting look before reluctantly nodding, "That was the rumor, and judging from the earlier episode from your friend here, I would say it was more than a rumor."

"But how…" Max whispered and Maria finished what he couldn't say, "How is that possible? If Aislin died, how come Liz somehow turned into Aislin?"

Melissa shook her head in confusion. "I'm not sure. But I think that Zan somehow absorbed Aislin's essence. Maybe he knew so much about the process from all the research he had done, that he could do it without the help of medicine or any equipment. Maybe his…" Melissa hesitated, seemingly reluctant to admit it, "…love for her made it possible."

"That's ridiculous," Tess said, surprising everyone. But she seemed indifferent to the fact that everyone was staring at her as she continued, "Zan was married to Ava. He loved Ava. Otherwise he wouldn't have placed her in protective care. He wouldn't have seen to it that her essence was carried on."

"I agree," Melissa mumbled. "It doesn't make sense."

Maria felt herself getting annoyed. "Maybe he was just acting according to how he was supposed to act. He was _forced_ to marry Ava. He knew that he needed to stay married to her to not cause any more instability in the royal house than there already was. Maybe he was smart enough to know that it was not the time to be selfish and bring up his love life when there was a threat on the royal house."

Max looked at Maria, stunned, and Maria heard Michael chuckled in her ear. His lips brushed lightly against the corner of her ear as he whispered, "That's my girl."

Tess shot to her feet and pointed at Max, "_He cheated on me!_"

Max frowned and said angrily, "Tess, please-"

"No," Melissa interrupted. "Zan didn't cheat on Ava-"

There was fire burning in Tess' eyes as she stared at Liz and Max. Mostly Liz. "She was pregnant. With _his_child."

"First of all, that's _Max_ you're pointing at-" Isabel started, but was interrupted by Melissa.

"Believe me, there were a lot of rumors, but after Zan took to the throne, he was never alone. He was even watched while sleeping. There was no way he could be together with someone else after he had been married to Ava. Someone would've seen it and reported it. What he did before he took to the throne though…"

"He was supposed to love me," Tess whispered, hot tears rolling down her cheeks.

Isabel got to her feet, walked up to Tess and took a firm grip on her upper arms. With a light shake, Isabel said sternly, "For God's sake, Tess. Pull yourself together. That was Zan and Ava. Not you and Max."

"But it's happening again," Tess cried. "Look at them!" She pointed accursedly at Max and Liz. "They're together again."

"That's _Max_ and _Liz_," Isabel objected. "Not-"

"Please, sit down," Melissa said gravely, "I'm not done."

"She's not part of us," Tess said bitterly, her eyes red with tears and anger, "She's not part of the Royal Four."

"Tess," Max said coldly. "Sit. Down."

Tess turned angry eyes towards her ex-husband and after a stubborn pause her body sank to the floor of the van again.  
Melissa inhaled deeply and pushed her hands through her hair before continuing, "Zan was brought to the Royal Healing Facility where the medical team followed the procedures set up by Zan himself. Zan's body was failing and it would not survive. His essence was carefully extracted, saved in a crystal, alongside the royal seal-"

"The royal seal?" Michael questioned.

"It was a seal etched into Zan's genetic make-up, which was activated when his father died. It had been active in his father when he was alive. It was the seal that showed who was the rightful king. It was the seal that would be activated in Khivar were Zan to die. It was also very handy when putting Zan's essence in someone else's body as means of identification."

Maria turned curious eyes to Max and her voice came out in unison with her boyfriend's, "Do you have it?"

Max shook his head in confusion. "No…"

Melissa looked certain when eyes turned from Max to Melissa for correction. "You do."

Melissa got to her feet and moved up to where Max and Liz were seated. Glancing at Liz, Melissa moved to stand behind Max and pressed her hand to the back of his head. Instantly, light exploded from Max's forehead and everyone except Melissa jumped in surprise as the light painted a symbol on the back of one of the car seats in front of Max. Like a movie projector.

"Holy crap," Michael mumbled.

Melissa removed her hand and the light went out.

"How did you…" Max mumbled, shocked.

"Neat party trick, isn't it?" Melissa said secretly, before retaking her seat in front of the group. "Rath was to be 'saved' next and finally Vilandra. Out of the four, she was the most reluctant to the plan. She wasn't convinced that it would work, was afraid that she was agreeing to her death by letting her essence be extracted."

"But she agreed?" Isabel guessed.

Melissa nodded. "Yes. Except for the Royal Four, four advisors went through the same procedure. I was one of them. We were set to activate your memories when it was time for you to return home and we were assigned to protect your secret and protect _you_ during your time on Earth. No one knew it would be so long. The war went on for many years-"

"Why weren't we sent there to fight?" Michael asked and Maria tried to ignore the feeling of abandonment that was etching its way into her. "We've been adults for quite some time now-"

"And I presume that we were in the 1947-crash - that was us -" Max interrupted, "We were incubated for 48 years before getting out of the chambers. And we were only kids then. Why did you leave us there for so long?"

"You said it yourself; there was a crash," Melissa answered. "The pilot couldn't handle the increased oxygen in the Earth's atmosphere and his head - quite frankly - exploded."

Maria grimaced and her expression was matched by everyone else in the room. Well, except for Tess, who still appeared to be sulking.

"We came down really hard," Melissa continued. "I was the only survivor. You survived because you were only essence - inside of crystals."

"Of course," Michael muttered.

"My task thereafter was to prepare you and await instructions from my planet-"

"That's why you're here," Michael interrupted breathlessly, "To bring us home."

Maria shivered at the hope in his voice. He wanted to go back. He wanted to return to Antar. What about them? What about their child?

Before Maria had time to let the panic fully seize her body, Melissa squashed her fears with one sad admission, "No. I'm sorry." She looked around the room and met the eyes of each former Antarian. "Antar died last week."

"Antar…what?" Max whispered and Maria felt the relief flood her. _There's no Antar._

"During his fraudulent reign, Khivar utilized all the natural resources on our planet. He caused an immense imbalance in the core of Antar which became common knowledge to the Antarians only in the past five years - Earth years. But by then it was too late. Possibly, some Antarians managed to escape before the planet imploded, but for certain a lot of people died with the planet."

There was silence as everyone absorbed this. They had just heard a remarkable tale of the measures taken to preserve a royal family in order to save a planet, even sending some off to another planet, only to have it all done for nothing. Also, it seemed right to offer a moment of respect for Antar, further emphasized by the silent tear rolling down Melissa's cheek. She had family there, people she'd lost. She had lost her hope at survival, of a return to her home.

"I'm sorry," Max whispered and voicing what they were all thinking he added, "Maybe they all got away; Your friends. Your family."

Melissa smiled at him softly, but her eyes were devoid of hope, "Thank you. But I don't think so. My acquaintances were not wealthy people. You'd have to be wealthy to flee from a planet."

"Did Khivar get away?" Isabel asked fearfully.

"Quite possibly," Melissa mumbled darkly. "But I honestly don't know. All transmission was cut out and I haven't heard a word since."

"So we have no purpose any more?" Michael asked.

Melissa shook her head. "In a way, no. That's why I needed to talk to you. To let you know that you're free, to live your lives here."

There was a pause to absorb this.

"What about Liz?" Max asked after a minute. "Is she human? Are _we_ human?"

"Sorry," Melissa said, straightened her back and wiped the sorrow off her face. "I didn't finish telling you… Your essence were put into the bodies of children who were deemed brain dead. Children who, by technical terms, had no personality anymore. Human children. It took me about ten Earth years to find suitable hosts."

"So our bodies are human?" Michael asked.

"One hundred percent human," Melissa answered.

"How come we have powers?" Isabel asked.

"Because your abilities come from the mind; a consequence of how you think and work. Your Antarian thinking uses the brain in another way."

"Like when they say that you only use 10% of your brain," Maria interjected.

"Which is actually not true," Melissa said. "Humans use their whole brain, but Antarians use it in another way."

"But if they were brain dead, wouldn't that've been a bad recipient?" Isabel asked.

"Ethically, it was the only plausible option. The scientists were not against putting you into any available human body, but Zan was very adamant about not taking someone else's life so that he could live. Since the Antarian brain works slightly different than the human, the Antarian essence was able to activate the brain and utilize the body."

"So these bodies are our puppets?" Michael questioned, a hint of disgust in his voice.

Melissa shook her head. "No. They're yours. They were rejected by the humans. They had been pulled off ventilators and just died when you were infused into their bodies. In a way, you brought them back to life. After inserting the essence into those child bodies, I placed you in incubators to facilitate the healing process and letting you grow out of the more vulnerable period of your childhood. The healing and getting the human bodies to accept the rewiring of their brains, took more time than expected. That's why you were in incubators so long."

"But they were not there anymore, the _rightful_ owners of the bodies?" Max wondered nervously.

"No," Melissa answered. "Their souls were already gone."

"But Liz wasn't…" Max said, guilty.

Melissa's face hardened. "She was dead, wasn't she?"

"I think so," Max answered and Maria saw him tighten his arm around Liz's shoulders. "I remember her lips being blue."

Melissa nodded. "That must be it then. When you were bringing her back, you were infusing her with Aislin's essence. Somehow her essence had been saved in your dying Antarian body and was extracted alongside your essence and put in your human body. Aislin's essence was naturally looking for its own host and when it encountered Liz's dead body it was the perfect fit."

Maria shivered. "But Liz is still here…"

"You brought her back," Melissa answered and looked at Max. "Just as Aislin was pouring into Liz, you brought Liz back."

"That's why you have two identities," Isabel whispered, looking at Liz in awe.

"It's why I dreamt of dying, of losing a baby," Liz said quietly and added softly while looking up at Max, "and you. It was Aislin. Aislin was reaching out for you."

"This is fucked up," Michael mumbled.

"It's the only way I can explain it," Melissa said.

"Liz?"

Maria looked over at Max at his uncertain question and saw Liz disentangling herself from Max.

"Sorry, I need…" her gaze flickered from Max to move across the heads of the rest of the group. "I need some air." Liz stumbled to her feet and moved towards the door.

"You shouldn't go out there on your own," Isabel protested.

"Liz?" Max repeated and rose.

Maria moved Michael's arms away from her middle, but he moved them back and tightened the grip. "You're_not_ going out there."

"She needs someone," Maria protested.

"And you're just as defenseless as she is, if not more," Michael protested.

"I'll go," Isabel said.

"Please, I need to be alone," Liz said at the door, her tense back towards the group.

"You'll be alone while I'm watching you from a distance," Isabel compromised and moved up behind Liz as she got the door open.

"Don't go," Max said behind the girls.

Isabel turned to her brother. "Maybe it's best if you leave her alone right now, Max."

Maria watched with sad eyes as Max slumped at Isabel's words and in a quick movement Liz and Isabel were out the door, slamming it shut behind them.


	51. Chapter 50

**CHAPTER 50**  
_Special Agent Joel Martin_

He wanted to scream at them "_I told you so"_, but of course he couldn't do that. They were his superiors, the so-called 'experts', and when they had told him to not act on his wish to capture the suspects at the motel where they had abducted Elizabeth Parker, he had obeyed.

Like the good little soldier he was.

And look where it had gotten them. Sure, they had developed a drug that could disable the aliens' abilities, but that wouldn't do any good as long as they didn't have the aliens themselves.

He slammed his fist down into his desk. If _he_ had been in charge, he _never_ would have let them slip through his fingers.

* * *

_Liz_

Was it all a lie? Is my whole life a lie?

The wet grass pressed against the soles of her sneakers, the melting remnants of early snow clinging to the shoe strings, as she crossed the lawn, the night pitch dark around her, not a star in sight.

_Do I love him just because Aislin had? Have I ever been myself or am I part-Aislin? Who am I?_

She ran fingers through her dark hair, tears coursing down her heated cheeks. Her arms tightened around her middle. She was shaking, her heart thrumming irregularly with palpable anxiety.

_Did I die the night of the accident? Is Aislin in control of me?_

She almost reached out with her mind, calling out into the darkness of her thoughts, as if it was a dark room with a stranger standing at the other end. Afraid to actually receive an answer, she pulled back and swallowed her question. Her language skills, her intelligence, her heightened empathy which bordered on telepathy… Was that all Aislin?

Her fingernails cut through her thin sweater (she hadn't brought her jacket with her) and into the soft tissue of her waist as she tried to stop herself from exploding.

"Oh my God," she whispered into the emptiness and felt her heart break. Her restless feet came to a halt and her upper body started falling, folding at the middle, her head aiming towards her middle. _Who am I?_

"Liz?"

She barely heard the concerned voice over the sound of blood rushing through her head, her legs folding at the knees, her knees hitting the cold wet ground with a cry ripped from the deepest parts of her being. There were hands moving across her back but she felt neither the warmth nor the comfort they tried to offer, she only saw the darkness in her mind where her identity had once been.

"You shouldn't be on the ground," the voice said and somewhere at the back of her head she recognized it as Isabel's. "You're freezing."

"I'm not me," Liz whispered. "I'm not me." And she felt the sharp pieces of her heart rip through her blood vessels, tearing through her arms and legs and she screamed.

"Please, Liz," Isabel said, louder now, trying to break through the sound of Liz's anguish. "You have to be quiet. Someone might hear. FBI is-"

"Let them take me," Liz cried. "Let them kill me. I can't… What…"

But she couldn't think anymore, she just wanted the pain to stop.

"Max, no." Liz heard Isabel's warning just as strong arms lifted her from the cold ground. She was hurting too badly to fight him. Instead she let him cradle her against his chest, let his lips brush against her temple, even though his voice of, "I've got you," made her hurt even more.

"I'm not her," she mumbled against his chest, her fists tightening, trying to fight for her survival, fight for Elizabeth Parker.

The ground moved below her and she was slightly jostled in his arms as he carried her back towards the van.

"I know," he answered softly, fiercely.

"You love _her_," Liz sobbed. "Not me. It's _her_. It's _her_ you recognize."

"Let's go inside, okay?" Max objected.

She shook her head. _No._ "Let me down." She squirmed impatiently, making it almost impossible for him to retain his hold on her. "Let go of me."

So he did. Her wet sneakers touched the ground and she stumbled against the side of the van. She looked up and met his dark eyes, the eyes that she had loved, where she had seen a side of herself that she loved. She realized now that the side she had seen reflected in his eyes was Aislin.

He might try to tell himself differently, but the reason why he had fallen for her and dreamt of her was because of the girl he had loved in another lifetime to such a degree that he had extracted her essence and placed it inside a human girl. So that his soulmate could live on.

"I know what you're thinking-"

Liz nodded and roughly brushed tears off her cheek. "Yes. You probably do. You're in my head. It's getting pretty crowded in here."

"I'll try and remove her," Max pleaded.

It was as if he had slapped her. She wasn't sure why it felt as if he had threatened her, but she suddenly had difficulty breathing. "You'll kill her?"

He looked confused, horrified even, and he stumbled on his next words as if he wasn't sure himself of their truth. "She has no right to your body."

"Neither did you," Liz croaked, a deep sense of violation floating through her. "Still you took the liberty of changing me. Forever."

He frowned and took a step towards her. She shrank back against the van. He stopped at her reaction and pushed a frustrated hand through his hair. "I saved your life."

She bit her bottom lip in a futile attempt to prevent the onslaught of tears. "I know. Damn it," she buried her hands in her hair and pulled. Maybe the pain from her scalp would distract her from the pain in her heart. "I don't know what to say. What to feel." The distraction didn't work.

"I was only a kid," Max said quickly, frustration coming off him in waves.

He was getting defensive and Liz couldn't blame him. He _had_ only been a kid. He probably had no idea what he was doing. He couldn't be blamed for this. But at the same time, Liz needed to blame someone. Needed to find the reason as to why her whole life was suddenly a lie. Why Max Evans couldn't possibly love Elizabeth Parker because he was actually in love with an Antarian girl.

"I would never intentionally put another soul - or whatever - inside a living human being, you have to know that!"

Liz laughed. She couldn't stop herself. It was ridiculous. Their conversation was ridiculous. The whole situation was ridiculous. She was standing outside in the darkest hour of the night with cold melted snow water seeping into the fabric of her sneakers and her back against a white van (currently housing three aliens, one human and a hybrid fetus) which had been the getaway vehicle while fleeing from the FBI, while discussing the moral repercussions of placing an alien soul inside her human mind.

Was this her reality now? Was this what she signed up for when she started talking to Max Evans at that office party earlier that same year?

The human with the Antarian mind standing in front of her was staring at her, gauging her reaction, and she realized that she had no idea what her reaction was. What was the sane reaction to something like this?

"What happens if you remove her?" Liz questioned. "Will I cease to exist? Will I become brain dead?"

"You were never brain dead," Max objected. "_You_ are still _you_. Otherwise there would only be Aislin."

"How do you know I'm not Aislin?" Liz demanded.

"Because when you were unconscious, Aislin took over, and that wasn't you," Max answered and - despite her previous reaction to his advance - took a step closer to her. She didn't move. "She was speaking Antarian. She didn't know where she was. It was as if she ceased to exist between her life on Antar up until the point at which you became unconscious."

Liz chewed on her bottom lip while fresh hot tears rolled down her cheeks. "The connection… _Our_connection. It's actually between her and you."

Max slowly shook his head and placed a warm hand against her cold cheek. He was close now, their noses almost touching. "No. Max Evans doesn't know Aislin. Zan did. Max knows Liz. The connection is between_us_."

She closed her eyes, willing the painful prickling of her arms to stop.

"Maybe her Antarian essence rewired your brain, made you more like us, and made it possible for us to have that bond, but it's still _you._ I brought _you_ back."

She could feel his breath against her lips - he was standing that close to her - and taste the saltiness of her own tears as they collected at the corner of her mouth.

"I need to know," Liz whispered.

"Need to know what?" she heard his soft voice reply.

"That you love _me_," Liz replied, her eyes still closed. She was almost certain that her heart stopped in anticipation of his reaction. Would he pull back? Reject her? Feel like she was giving him a Tess-ultimatum?

Instead she felt the softness of his lips touching hers. She froze, afraid that her moving might destroy something, might break the illusion. She felt his left hand touch her right cheek in perfect symmetry with the location of his right hand against her left cheek and how he softly angled her head upwards, her lips meeting his more perfectly. She felt the encouragement in his kiss, of him wanting her to respond to him, and also his insecurity - afraid that she would not - before she reciprocated.

Her lips captured his upper lip softly and the world seemed to pause for the fraction of a second before she parted her lips and let him closer. Hurried. Impatiently. Their teeth touched minutely in the newness of the kiss before their mouths found the rhythm. The rhythm of tongues touching, of nibbling, of caressing. His mouth left hers (which elicited a disappointed groan from her) to kiss down the side of her neck before quickly returning to her lips.

He was warm, he tasted like rain and salt (or maybe that was her tears) and she felt herself (in the manner of a romance novel) melt in his arms. The kiss was heated, desperate, and growing in intensity.

She wanted to tear his clothes off, touch his skin, touch him everywhere, feel his warmth, crawl inside of him. She loved how his fingers were embedded in her hair, the warmth from the tip of his fingers against her scalp, the pressure of his body against hers as he pushed her up against the side of the van.

"Ahem…"

The clearing of one's throat in a typical Do-You-Mind? objection was not registered by the couple the first time. Or the second. When the innocent throat clearing reached a disturbingly loud decibel level on the third attempt, Max pulled back, his breathing shallow, his forehead against Liz's.

"Thank you," Isabel said next to them, grateful for getting their attention, and Liz had the courtesy of blushing as she realized that Isabel had been standing outside with them the whole time. "Maybe we should go inside?" Isabel said. "It's not safe out here. You know, with the FBI and stuff."

Max chuckled and Liz glanced up to meet his eyes, only an inch from hers. When their eyes met, the laughter disappeared from his face and he placed a soft lingering kiss on her swollen lips. He pulled back and waited for her to meet his serious eyes before saying, "I love _you_, Liz Parker."

Her heart was beating too hard for her to answer so she just nodded, her breath caught at the back of her throat.

"You okay?" he asked, a glint of something akin to amusement crinkling his eyes.

They were beautiful close up, his eyes. Even more beautiful than from a distance, she noted. The darkness of the night were turning his eyes into a shade of golden chocolate.

"For now," she whispered, reaching up with her hand to brush at his fringe. She could feel his eyes on her face as she followed the movement of her hand.

"It's been a long day," Max mumbled.

_Understatement,_ Liz thought.

"So maybe we should talk more tomorrow," Max suggested.

"Yeah," Liz nodded. "We have a lot to talk about."

He looked instantly worried so she gave him a comforting smile and leaned in for another kiss. Her heart fluttered at the touch of his lips and she wanted to stay there. Keep her lips locked with his forever. But instead she pulled back and inhaled. "Right."

"Right," Max answered and took a step back. The cold air flowed between their bodies and she shivered. But then he took her hand and she forgot the cold for the moment as his fingers interlaced with hers.

Maybe they could have their fairytale anyway. Maybe.


	52. Chapter 51

**CHAPTER 51**  
_Max_

She crawled very close that night. So close that he was almost afraid to move, afraid to scare her off.

They only had the meager softness supplied by a woolen jacket as mattress on the cold and hard metallic flooring of the vehicle. When he closed his eyes, he had the sensation that he was scraping along the concrete surface beneath the van rather than floating above it on wheels. His shoulder was aching from where it was crushed underneath the weight of his upper body and the small movements normally caused by a vehicle tracking asphalt felt more like earthquakes ripping through his whole body than innocent jostling.

With that in mind it was almost laughable that he was considering placing this night at the top of his 'Five Best Nights of My Life"-list. It made him wonder if he could now be categorized as a 'love sick puppy' as he felt his heart skip beats and his blood vessels flush at the feel of her body spooned against his front and his free hand carefully placed across the hollow of her waist. He wondered if she was asleep or if she too had been laying awake for the past three hours, analyzing how well their bodies fit together and how their breathing had become synchronized.

He wanted to bury his face into the soft curve of her neck and breathe in the smell of her hair. He had been considering doing that for the past 43 minutes but hadn't worked up the guts. Just being this close to her in that vulnerable sleeping state had already reached new heights of intimacy. Cuddling into the body that had sought out warmth and comfort in the wee hours of the morning would possibly cross some borders that were not yet meant to be crossed.

They had been circling around each other for enough weeks as it was. He really didn't feel like starting all over again by stepping over the line. Instead he closed his eyes and tried yet again to fight the insomnia while the van without mercy jumped another rock in the road, causing his head to bump harshly against his bicep.

He seriously doubted that he was the only one in the van having difficulty sleeping.

The sun had only been up for about an hour when Tess made her announcement. The company had been up with the sun and were alternating between staring tiredly into the walls and staring blankly out the windshield. There had not been much conversation yet, everyone occupied by trying to sort out their private thoughts and make sense of their pasts and possible futures.

So when Tess spoke up, it caused a ripple of activity through the group.

"When we reach the airport, I'm leaving."

Melissa had revealed her plans to them yesterday. They were all to board a plane to Australia, under fake identities of course, and go under ground in that country on the other side of Earth for however long it would take for their trail to run cold. Apparently, Australia had a large alien population. So large, in fact, that aliens had infiltrated the Australian community and government. The aliens living there had, according to Melissa, structured plans in place on how to hide their compatriots in plain sight, and there were several examples of humans marrying aliens and creating children. Settling down where they felt safe and protected.

Consequently, that's where they were headed now; the airport.

Max opened his mouth to protest, but found no words. With a dash of guilt he realized that he wasn't all that upset about Tess' decision, so who was he to object?

Melissa, on the other hand, spoke after a second of complete silence, "You can't leave."

"I'm not welcome here. They've all made that very clear." Tess' face was devoid of emotions, her features hard and determined. Max might not know Theresa Harding very well but he was sure of one thing; she'd made up her mind.

"That's not what-" Isabel started to protest, worry and sadness in her voice.

Tess cast her a fleeting smile. "It's okay, Isabel. I know you mean well. But I sought you out to get answers. I've gotten my answers. It would've been a bonus to actually be reunited with…" she hesitated before skimming a glance in Max's direction, "…Zan. But I can see that his heart is set on someone else. There's no place for me here."

"You're my friend," Isabel tried again, but even to Max's ears the protest sounded weak. His sister knew that it was a losing battle. She knew, just as well as Tess did, that Tess was not very liked and would perhaps never be an integral part of the group.

"It's dangerous for you to be on your own," Melissa objected.

Melissa's eyes were red from sleep deprivation. She had hardly slept since she had picked them up outside of that shopping mall and she looked dead on her feet. In spite of her lack of sleep, she was trying to balance her body in a moving van (with Michael at the wheel) causing her to sway from one side to the next.

"I think it's more dangerous for me to stay with such a large group," Tess said and looked in Max's direction again.

Max got the feeling that Tess wanted him to say something, wanted to convince her to stay or at least make an effort at convincing her. But he had no words, his throat was clogged up. He couldn't force Tess to stay; he didn't want to. He was acutely aware of the warmth of Liz's body next to his and how much danger Tess had put Liz in.

He still had not forgiven Tess for that and maybe he never could.

Tess looked away, her cheeks flushed. She looked hurt. Hurt that only Isabel and her advisor (whose _job_ it was to keep the group together) wanted her to stay.

"We can't force you to stay," Maria whispered and Max couldn't look at Tess anymore. He felt ashamed. It had been better if Maria hadn't said anything at all. His friend's voice betrayed what she really felt; what they all really felt. _Please, Tess. Feel free to leave._

"What if they find you?" Melissa said. "We can't protect you from a distance."

"I'll be okay," Tess answered, a break in her voice that made her more human than Max had ever heard her. "I've managed so far."

"You've already made up your mind," Melissa stated in resignation.

Tess confirmed with a simple, "Yes."

That seemed to be the end of the conversation. There wasn't much left to say. As the van continued its bumpy ride, Max heard Melissa tell Tess in a quiet voice that she would still keep track of her, that she wasn't alone. And despite what had happened between Tess and Max, that promise made Max feel a bit better.

Melissa was stepping up to the plate when Max couldn't.

* * *

_Liz_

She gasped as she felt the hand around her wrist and the gasp would have been closely followed by a scream if another hand hadn't been placed over her lips.

But in the second that her assailant pulled her body close to his, she relaxed.

She could feel him tingling at the edges of her consciousness, that special bond between them firing up. The connection had been momentarily torn apart between them, as Aislin had surfaced, but as soon as Liz had returned to consciousness it was there again. Stronger than ever.

"Sorry," his dark voice whispered in her ear, the two day stubble on his cheek brushing against hers.

She pulled his hand away from her mouth and turned to face him. She tried to put a chastising look on her face, but her words of admonishment caught on her lips as her eyes reached him. His hair was red now, but rather auburn red than tomato, and his eyes were sapphire blue.

She felt the corners of her mouth twitch as she placed a hand to his cheek and let her eyes drift to his lips. She leaned in and placed a soft caress on those lips. His lips hadn't changed. Not one bit.

"You scared me," she whispered, her lips brushing against his with each syllable.

His arms were around her waist and with a sharp movement he pulled her body against his. A breath left the entrance of her mouth and she had to close her eyes for a second to catch her heartbeat that was suddenly in every detail of her soul. The heat of his body simmered against her clothed skin and she could feel his steady heartbeat beneath her fingers, her arms bundled up between their bodies.

"I didn't mean to," he said and she looked up at him through her lashes.

He was taller than her by almost a head, but, instead of making her feel inferior, the height difference made her feel protected in the space beneath his chin.

Heat was pulsating back and forth through their mental extraterrestrial bond, which, combined with the smell of him and the touch of his fingers against the back of her shirt, made her feel unstable on her feet.

Without any effort showing on his face, Max added pressure to the sides of her body and lifted her to the points of her feet and beyond. When he returned her kiss she was floating in the air, her feet an inch off ground level, her arms around his waist for support. She felt herself melt into that kiss, let her lips fuse with his, her tongue brush his, her palms leaving his waist and spreading out against the cold damp wall behind his back.

They both knew that they ought to be heading back. Knew that they were not safe yet, not safe to make out in corners of a pit stop and put their guard down.

Liz could, however, feel through their connection that he wasn't 100 percent focused on her. There was a slight distraction, a slight apprehension and edginess which assured her that he would notice if there was a single movement or sound around them out of place.

He had lived a life on edge, it would probably take much more than kissing to get him out of that habit.

Max pulled back, out of breath, and rested his forehead against hers as she felt her feet touch the ground again. In more ways than one. She still hadn't gotten used to his latest eye color of disguise, but the emotion behind them was all Max. It came crashing into her now, the volumes of his gaze. Sometimes that loaded look frightened her; it was almost too much.

How could he possibly love her so much when they still had so much to learn about each other? It frightened her because she didn't know if she could live up to that. If she could reciprocate. There was no denying, even to herself, that her feelings for him were strong. She loved him more than she'd ever loved any one else.

But was it enough? Was she, Elizabeth Parker, enough? Or was he still expecting the love of Aislin?

"I want you to call your dad," Max whispered at that moment, just as insecurities were starting to cause unease through her heart and mind, as she was starting to feel cold despite the warmth of his body so close.

His 'request' startled her and she met his eyes again. "It's too dangerous."

Max shook his head. "I'm sure we can do it safely." He placed a hand against her cheek, cradling the softness of the curve as he had done so many times before. "You _need_ to call your dad."

She bit her bottom lip. "Because we're leaving the country? He already believes I'm on a trip around the world."

Max searched her eyes. Liz met his gaze, wondering what reaction he was searching for.

"Because we're leaving the country _and_ because I'm pretty sure he hasn't missed us on the 'Most Wanted'-list," Max said and Liz felt the chill in her bones.

Before she could get caught in thoughts of what a disappointment she most likely was to her father right now (it hadn't crossed her mind until Max brought it up that people she knew and loved would have seen the 'Most Wanted'-notices as well), Max added, "And because you need to talk to your dad. He's your family. He's worried about you and I know that you've been feeling guilty about leaving the way we did."

Her heart felt a little lighter, but her tears gained weight and one rolled down her cheek. It was captured by Max's thumb and his eyes grew more concerned. She felt ridiculous. She was always crying.

"I'm sorry, I…" she was shaking her head trying to shake off the helplessness as he silenced her by kissing the next tear that rolled down her cheek.

"Liz," he mumbled and placed a kiss to her forehead. Her eyes remained closed as she listened to his next words. "You need to have closure. Otherwise you won't be able to move on. You'll feel trapped with us. With…me."

She heard the vulnerability in his last word, but it didn't lessen the coldness spreading through her.

_Closure? Moving on?_

She pulled back, pushed her hands up against his chest and disentangled herself from his grip. Her hands moved through her hair and she was aware of her shaking, of her hands trembling, as she saw him reach for her out of the corner of her eye.

"Liz…"

She shook her head, her lips brought tightly together, and held up a hand to stop him from speaking. "No… Give me a second."

So he did. He gave her 122 seconds.

In those seconds she alternated between putting her arms on her thighs with her body bent over and leaning up with her hands on top of her head to control her breathing and stop herself from crying. She was fighting an anxiety attack. Fighting it because she knew, rationally, that Max was right.

She had to finish one chapter of her life to be able to fully move on to the next. But it hurt. It really hurt. Leave her father permanently? Say goodbye without knowing if she ever would see or even talk to him again?

"Can I tell him?" was her first question after having managed to stop her feelings from exploding all over the ground like a bloody massacre.

Max was standing silently ten feet away, giving her the space she needed, looking strong and vulnerable at the same time.

"About us?" Max wondered and it was no puzzle which 'us' he was referring to. Them. The aliens.

She shook her head, clenching and unclenching her fists. It hurt. Everything hurt. "That I'm safe? That I probably won't come home? Where I am?"

"Yes, you can tell him that… I _want you_ to tell him that. But you can't reveal our location, Liz."

Of course she knew that. But she had hoped that he would agree to revealing it anyway. It would have made her happier to know that her dad knew where she was.

"How?"

"We'll get a burner phone," Max answered, still keeping his distance. Liz wondered if she looked as much like the trapped animal in a cage as she felt.

"Can I tell him why I had to leave? That is not just a trip around the world?"

"You'll know what to say," Max said, his voice calm and his - for the moment - blue eyes intensely attached to her face. Maybe she really _did_ look like a wild animal. "I trust you. _You_ have to come up with what to say, because it has to sound real. It has to be from your heart. Or else you won't feel okay with it and your dad won't feel okay with it."

"Yeah," Liz whispered and stood still. Completely still. Her head hanging low she didn't see him approach until he put his arms around her and pulled her close.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled while burying his hand in her - temporarily - blonde hair.

"I'll be okay," she replied, because she knew that he was feeling guilty again. Guilty for putting her in a position where she had to say goodbye to her father, possibly forever. Her tears had dried up. She felt dry and empty. "Thank you for letting me call him."

"Maybe you'll get another chance at calling him. Maybe when in Australia…" he let the hope trail off and she nodded infinitely against his shoulder.

Maybe when in Australia…


	53. Chapter 52

**CHAPTER 52**  
_Jeffrey_

He was watching a rerun of 'Live and Let Die', featuring James Bond, when she called.

He hadn't really been paying much attention to the movie. He hadn't really been paying much attention to anything since his daughter left.

He had taken a leave of absence from his work when Liz had showed up on 'Most Wanted'-lists because he couldn't stand the judging stares from his co-workers and quickly lost energy about defending why his daughter would never be a criminal.

He could explain himself blue without anyone believing him. After all, if it was on the news it had to be true, right?

Apparently, the group his daughter was running with had robbed a bank, while heavily armed, and had taken an FBI-agent hostage. There was footage of men in black clothing, with ski masks obscuring their faces, all over the news. Jeffrey had to admit that the men had acted extremely violently. They had shot one of the customers when she had freaked out over what was happening and had started screaming. She had been gravelly injured, but was now in a stable condition.

Jeffrey had stopped counting the number of times he had jumped off the couch, only to run up close to the TV-screen to see if he could actually spot Liz in the footage. Considering that the offenders had their faces covered, it was impossible to discern who they were. Even though Jeffrey had searched for gestures and recognizable mannerism that would reveal if one of the smaller sized robbers was in fact his daughter (who had trouble killing even the most annoying fly), he found nothing.

He wondered how the police and the FBI could be so certain of the identities of the people they were hunting, when the faces of the criminals never once showed in that well-aired piece of footage from the bank's security camera.

Most of the people he came into contact with didn't say anything, but there were a few 'You never really know them as well as you think' and 'Maybe it was because she lacked a mother figure' eluding some people. At one point he had considered looking up the parents of the other youngsters paired up with his girl on those 'Most Wanted'-photographs just to see if they found the whole thing just as hard to believe as he did, or maybe to find out that Liz had ended up in the wrong kind of crowd.

Perhaps he was afraid of what he would find, afraid of finding a truth he wouldn't like, but he never tracked those parents down. Apparently, they never tried to contact him either. Quite possibly, your children doing criminal activities together was not the best way to bring strangers together.

The number on the display on his cell was unknown and for a second he considered not answering. He'd had his fair share of journalists and reporters calling and the last thing he felt like on a Saturday evening was speaking to the press about what a mistake this whole thing was. Call it intuition or something completely else at work, but Jeffrey was suddenly taken over by the need to answer that phone call.

"Jeffrey Parker."

There was silence at the other end of the line and Jeffrey briefly wondered if he should have just ignored the phone call, when… "Daddy?"

Jeffrey Parker was in very good health. He loved to run and almost never missed a morning run. He ate healthy, avoided smoking and consumed alcohol in small acceptable amounts on special occasions. But in that moment, Jeffrey was certain that his heart just stopped, its main blood supply blocked off by a major thrombosis caused by years of substance and food abuse (which of course hadn't happened).

"Daddy?" the voice repeated and the stop eased off, pushing blood through his circulation anew and causing a deep breath to rock his system.

"Lizzie?"

There was a pause before she whispered, "Hi, Daddy," and he could hear the tears in her voice.

_My sweet sweet baby girl._

His eyes were tearing up and he was struggling with what to do first. Scream at her for being so stupid or drown her in 'I love you's' and 'I miss you's'. He choose neither. "What happened? Where are you?"

"I just wanted to hear your voice," his daughter answered, an uncertain evasiveness in her voice which he had almost never heard from his daughter. It meant that she was avoiding speaking the truth. Which further worried him that maybe he had been wrong this whole time and the police had been right.

She _had_ done something wrong and she _was_ a criminal.

"What did you do?" he asked, trying to keep accusation out of his voice but couldn't hinder the disappointment from seeping through.

"Don't listen to them," she croaked, her voice heavy with tears. "I haven't done anything wrong and neither have my friends."

He wanted to believe her. He longed to give in to that feeling of relief, but something was very wrong with this picture. "If you haven't done anything wrong, why are they after you? They're saying that you robbed a bank. That you have kidnapped a federal agent."

"It's all a cover up," Liz answered and Jeffrey felt himself getting frustrated. And angry. It was not like Liz to lie to him. Even when she had done something wrong by mistake as little, she had always told him straight away anyway. She had been so remorseful. Where was his little girl?

"Liz. It's not just the police. It's the _FBI._ This is big."

"For reasons I cannot tell you - because they are not my reasons to tell - the FBI threatened us. Because of that, we had to leave. We had to, to save our lives. You have to believe me. We have not abducted any FBI-agent. They made that up. To make the crime more serious; to make everyone look for us."

"No," Jeffrey shook his head, which went unseen by the girl at the other end of the line. "That's ridiculous, Lizzie. The FBI don't go around making things up. You're saying that the footage is fake?" Before Liz had a chance to answer, Jeffrey continued, "And even if you haven't done anything, you have rights. There's no way that the government would threatened you, _unless_ you've done something wrong. Broken some law. They don't go around persecuting innocent people. They're here to protect us."

"That's what I thought too," Liz replied and her voice sounded small. She sounded like his scared five-year-old, telling him that she still couldn't sleep without a night light after the death of her mother. "But the things they did…The things they threatened to do. They have resources, Daddy. They can do whatever they want. It's not difficult for them to make us into the bad guy, even though we're innocent."

Jeffrey sighed, frustrated. "You sound like a conspirator."

"I wish I could tell you the whole story," Liz said, more forcibly. "And maybe some day I can. But for now you just have to believe me. Believe _me._ Except for when I told you I was traveling the world, I've never lied to you."

He felt his heart break. He wanted to believe her, but he felt like he was being betrayed, being taken for a fool that would believe just about anything. Like she was playing his trust and his love for her. He had_known_ that something had been wrong about the 'around the world travel'-explanation, making him reluctant to trust her now. "I want to believe you. But this-"

"We're leaving the country," Liz interrupted hurriedly and there was an edge to her voice that he didn't recognize. "I wanted to call you before I leave to let you know that I'm alright and that I'm gonna disappear… For awhile."

His heart was falling to his toes. "You're…" He felt weak, devoid of words.

"And I was hoping that you could see past your trust in the system and see _me_, your daughter. And trust_me._"

She was crying now and her pleading was making the heart in his toes throb painfully. He was hurting her, unintentionally.

Listening to her crying at the other end of the line, feeling his throat constricting, he realized that she was telling the truth. Whatever whacked up explanation there was for the government tracking her, there was no delusion or mischief in the earnest sound of her crying. It was the honest and naked sound of a daughter asking for her father's trust and love.

"Of course I trust you," he whispered past his tight throat. "I was just a bit taken back by this whole thing. Lizzie, I love you. I miss you so much, baby. I'm so happy to hear that you're okay, you scared me half to death. I wasn't sure you were even alive. Or if you had been taken against your will by those people you referred to as your friends just now-"

"They're really good people," Liz interrupted, her voice clearing up. "They'd protect me with their lives."

He inhaled deeply, his eyes following the movements of the muted James Bond movie on the TV in front of him. It was surreal to think that his daughter would fit more perfectly in with the theatrical world in that movie than seated on the TV couch next to him. "That's good to hear, sweetie."

"And I would never leave you if I didn't have any other choice," Liz pressed on.

"I know," he answered and he did. He knew how much they meant to each other. "That's why I was afraid that you were dead. Nothing short of that would remove you from me."

"I'm sorry, Daddy. If it were up to me, you'd be with me right now."

"I'm just glad you called."

"I love you," she whispered and he let a tear fall at her affirmation.

"I love you too, baby. So much."

There was a pause, during which he could hear the faint breathing of his daughter and the occasional sniffles of her sadness. Then, "I have to go."

He closed his eyes against the sentence he had feared and expected. "I understand."

"I love you," she repeated.

"Love you," he answered and then she was gone.

* * *

_Michael_

She hadn't noticed him yet, which presented him with the rare opportunity to watch her without her knowing. Like he used to look at that photo of her in the newspaper right before closing his eyes to go to sleep, and how he would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night to the sight of her peaceful sleeping features next to him.

The yellow light from an old naked light bulb attached above the toilet mirror rained down on top of her head, making her blonde hair shine like gold and her skin warm with bronze. She was only wearing panties and a tank top, but the sight made his stomach rumble. She was starting to show; there was a two inches strip of bare skin between the lower edge of her top and the top of her panties where a definite bulge had taken shape.

_Our baby._

The thought caught him off guard and sent an unexpected explosion of warmth and love through his body. He had never considered himself a family man, but seeing his child grow inside the woman he loved made him ready to buy a house with a white picket fence plus that damn dog and (what the heck) you might as well throw in that station wagon.

She was wearing her hair down (that soft soft hair) and it curled naturally down her slender neck and across her shoulder blades. She was up close to the mirror, removing make-up with a cotton pad. The only reason she hadn't seen his reflection in the mirror yet was because she was squeezing her eyes closed against the eye make-up remover, even as she was stretched close to the mirror as if trying to see better in spite of her closed eyes.

He smiled at this, a fondness for all her inexplicable illogical habits wrapping around the memories he was collecting of her. A span of several years of kisses, hugs, looks and incredible incredible sex.

Of course, there had been fights. They hardly ever missed an opportunity to tease or annoy each other. But it was all part of the _Michael and Maria Show._ It was what made them tick.

He was tracing the lines of her long legs as they disappeared towards the dim lightning of the flooring when she gave a start and met his eyes in the mirror.

"Hey," he said softly and granted her an apologetical wink.

"What are you doing?" she asked and twisted her upper body slightly to throw the used cotton pad in the garbage can.

Michael watched how one cheek of her bottom clenched slightly at the movement, how her shoulder blades moved underneath her skin, beneath the white shoulder straps.

She twisted to look back at him. "You're coming off as a bit of a sleaze ball just standing there. Watching a poor pregnant woman getting ready for bed."

He pushed off the door frame he was propped up against and approached her slowly. He watched how her chest froze in anticipation, watched her full lips part marginally and the slow fluid movement of her hand as she put the bottle marked 'Gentle Eye Make-Up Remover' on the sink. She was already unconsciously angling and stretching her neck, like a victim of a vampire attack offering up her jugular, as he came to a slow halt next to her, his front to her side, his arms slowly moving around her middle, letting his fingers barely brush the exposed skin leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He placed his lips against the side of her inviting neck, reveled in the throb of her pulse against his breath, as he softly applied pressure, letting his tongue move out slightly to caress her skin. She shivered in his arms, her head tipping downwards as she suppressed a groan.

"You're _my_ pregnant woman," he mumbled, that instinctive pulse of caveman mentality sneaking a hold of him.

His fingers moved on top of the front and back of her left hipbone, respectively, edging beneath the soft cotton material of her white panties, and with a sharp tug he pulled her into his body. She moaned softly, her hands now gripping the sides of the white porcelain sink.

Cotton pads and remover were left forgotten.

As his hands moved down her front and back, underneath her panties, his lips moved up the side of her neck, breathing moist warm air against the goosebumps and the small hairs of her skin that was standing at attention, until he located the lobe of her left ear. His teeth grazed the skin of her ear as his hands changed direction and moved north instead of south.

As they reached her waist, he spun her, and in one rapid movement she was lifted onto the edge of the sink, his strong body between her bare legs and her back against the cold mirror. The eye make-up remover bottle clattered to the bathroom floor as her legs wrapped around his waist for support and her hands wrapped across his shoulders.

They paused there, breathing barely controlled, bodies heating up, a drop of sweat running from his hairline, one side of her shoulder strap falling down.

"And you're _my_ sleaze ball," Maria whispered, which tugged him over the edge of his control.

His lips crashed down on hers, his hands familiar and knowing as they moved underneath her top and pulled it up. The explosive dueling between their lips, between their tongues, was momentarily interrupted as the fabric passed between their faces. Michael let her hair skim through the top before he let it go. But no one watched it fall to the floor, their attention consumed with each other.

"Bed," he groaned against her lips and she angled her head away to breathe in air and breathe out an answer while he shifted his attention to her neck, "Sure."

He stumbled backwards, her weight in his arms, her ankles locked together at the small of his back and her hands in his hair as they continued kissing, until he bumped into the bed and fell onto his back against the covers. Their lips broke apart and he looked up at her flushed face as she was looking down at him, her hair creating a veil around them, and his heart missed a beat.

God, he loved this woman.

"Do we have time?" she whispered, referring to the fact that they were only meant to stay in the motel for four hours, to reduce the risk of getting caught. A compromise to avoid another night in the van.

"I always have time for you," Michael mumbled and applied pressure to the small of her back, bringing her straddling body closer, closing the distance between their faces.

They didn't get much sleep that night.


	54. Chapter 53

**CHAPTER 53**  
_Liz_

She looked down at her hands. They were sinking into the ground, covered in cold mud.

At the sound of a loud explosion, she whipped her head to the side just in time to witness a small cottage going up in flames.

Terror was creeping up her arms and legs, as though it were transmitted by the mud. With a subdued shriek of fear, she pulled her hand free from the clinging thick mud and placed it further in front of her.

She was on her knees, her legs bare and cold, her naked feet trying to find leverage in the fluid ground to move forward.

She needed to move forward.

She couldn't remember how she had gotten here. Adrenaline was pumping hotly through her veins, sharpening her senses to a degree that almost made her faint. It made her aware of the warm fluid on the inside of her thighs and with quite some effort, she pulled one hand free to touch the inside of her thigh.

A broken "No" slipped out of her trembling lips as she saw the red color mixed with the mud on her fingers.

Blood.

The hand still in the mud was slowly sinking deeper and deeper since it was the only hand supporting her weight and with a tremble her body shook her back down on all four. It was mere desperation that had her continue her crawl while tears rolled down her dirty face, moaning words of sorrow about the baby.

She had lost her baby.

She felt herself sink deeper and deeper into the mud and her arms were trembling with the effort of the crawl. The night was filled with screams. Possibly the screams belonged to people she loved, people she had grown up with, people she had laughed with.

But none of those screams could be recognized. They were almost animalistic, stricken with anguish or impossible pain.

The rebellion were killing them. To make an example. That's what Zan had told her. They were an example. Collateral damage. Everyone she had ever loved were not to exist because the murder of these poor villagers were to serve as a way to scare the royal government.

She didn't have to close her eyes to see him before her. How frantic he had looked, how he hadn't cared that her parents had seen him enter their house. There hadn't been time for their regular precautions, there hadn't been any use to disguise his true identity. The warnings had spilled out of his mouth as his hands had moved over her face, her body, as if ascertaining that she was still whole, still alive. She could still feel the love in his hands, the tremble of his fear.

He'd barely had time to get all the information out before the first screams had started. The rebellion had already moved in by then. She had turned to tell her parents to run only to find them captured by two masked men, knives to their throats. The look in her parents' eyes were forever ingrained on her cornea as the men sliced their throats open, from ear to ear, in one long deep movement.

She hadn't even screamed, the scream frozen in shock at the top of her throat. She'd wanted to rush towards them and hold them in her arms as life left them, so they wouldn't die alone, but Zan was pulling on her hand, screaming at her that they had to run. Her parents' killers were already running towards them and Zan's option seemed like the only plausible one.

Even now she wondered if her hesitation, her need to go to her parents, had killed him.

There was another explosion close by and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut against the sounds, trying to will the reality away. _Make it stop. Please, make it stop._

She knew where she needed to go, knew that he would be at the top of the hill. That's how far they'd gotten after leaving her childhood home behind, before rebels caught up with them. That's how far they'd gotten before Zan's hand was pulled from hers and he was kicked to the ground.

He fought them. He fought them well. Or so she hoped that he would, but she didn't stick around long enough to find out. One of the rebels made sure of that as he took a hold of her hair and with a sharp tug pulled her off her feet. She had landed hard, her vision going dim for a second, before rough hands pulled her back up. She didn't remember the seconds after that particularly clearly. They were a muddled mix of strikes, pain, blood and screams.

The beatings that hurt the most were the ones to her pregnant abdomen. The ones that eventually would result in her miscarriage.

She tried to push the thoughts away as she crawled closer to the top, hoping for a miracle, hoping that the men had left after they had pushed her down the hill, counting on her to die on her own. Alone. If they were still there, they would surely not give her a second chance.

A violent contraction ripped through her abdomen, its suddenness making her cry out in pain. Her arms lost their support and she fell into the mud, sliding into fetal position with her teeth biting into her lip.

"Lin?"

Through her blurry vision she saw a figure approach and she instinctively shied away, cowering around the unborn baby inside her womb.

"No, let me die," she whispered brokenly. "Just let me die."

"You're hurt," the figure whispered and even though his voice was distorted and slurred, she recognized it.

The person limping towards her was him. Zan.

"Our baby," she sobbed and he fell to his knees next to her.

"You're bleeding," he whispered and she couldn't see him clearly through her own tears. It must be the tears that were distorting her view of him… She wouldn't let herself believe that his face was a sickly color, bloodied and swollen in a disfiguring manner. She was pretty sure his left eye was gone, but she closed her eyes quickly against the possible empty eye socket.

"You're alive," she croaked.

He didn't say anything for a long time and another contraction worked itself painfully through her body. "I think I'm having the baby."

"It's too soon," he said softly, sadly. She realized why when he crawled next to her in the mud and kissed her forehead. Her hand moved out to pull him closer but instead of finding dry clothing, she found warm, sticky fluid covering most parts of him.

She wasn't the only one bleeding.

"You're dying," she stated, trying to hold the sorrow inside of her chest. If it got out, it might just make her explode.

"Yes," he said softly and scooted closer.

She realized that the cold mud must be chilling him down too and wouldn't really prolong his life, but she was selfishly happy that he chose to be close to her instead of living a minute or two longer.

"I've called for help."

"Will they make it?" she asked before another contraction hit and she started screaming. Her scream was dampened by his lips on her lips and she forced herself to focus on him instead of the pain.

"I don't know," he whispered and kissed down her muddy face. "I don't know."

She hadn't dared to look up at him yet. Not fully. Instead, she had to ask, "Your eye?"

"A knife," he answered simply and she nodded.

"You need to live," she whispered, because it didn't matter that she wanted to die in his arms, he was the king. He had other duties to attend to. "You need to live so you can stop them."

He kissed her eyebrows. "It's too late. But we have a back-up plan."

"We do?"

She bit down hard on her bottom lip as a contraction ripped her apart, her fingers digging into the side of his waist. She felt it coming, felt the need to push. She tried to catch her breath and just before she started to push, he grabbed her chin and made her look up at him. Made her look at his damaged face, of all the blood and swellings. Of his punctured eye and the teeth missing in his mouth.

"I'm taking you with me."

"I need to push," she got out between clenched teeth.

"No. You need to look at me."

"Zan," she pleaded, the pain building. She couldn't hold back. "I need to-"

"Look at me."

So she did and then there was no more pain. No more of anything.

"_Liz!"_

She sat up so abruptly that she almost knocked Max over.

"Thank God," she heard him mumble next to her as she tried to make sense of where she was - of _when_ she was. Her heart was beating in her throat and the pain of the contractions still echoed in her abdomen. She could still feel the dampness of the mud against her hands and the warmness of his kisses against his face.

She whipped her head to the side and saw Max in the shadows of the night. She must have looked as frightened as she felt because the concern in his eyes darkened and the hand he had stretched out in her direction paused mid-air. "You were dreaming."

His soft attempt at explanation caused the air to flow back into her lungs, which made it feel as if her lungs collapsed. She bent at the waist, her chin dipping to the hollow between her collarbones, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle, and let out a deep moan.

"Liz?"

The physical pain was gone, but the emotional pain was so much worse.

But when he cautiously first put a hand on her shoulder and then slowly moved to sit behind her, putting his arms around her crumbled shape and pulling her against the comfort of his chest, she let him. She let him rock her soothingly as sobs wrecked her body and let him place consoling kisses to the side of her feverish neck.

"You were bleeding again," he whispered when her sobs diminished into soft whimpers. "But I couldn't wake you."

Her eyes were still closed and she reveled in his voice. She remembered far too clearly the disfigured face of the former king of Antar. Even though Zan hadn't looked much like Max at all, Liz still recognized Zan as Max. Their souls were the same.

"She needed me to see it," Liz croaked, her voice dry and battered by the tears.

"Aislin?" Max asked.

Liz moved her arms out from underneath his and sought out his hands. Looking down at his hands, she moved her own fingers across the pads of his fingers, tracing the faint blue blood vessels at the back of his hands.

"She needed me to understand," Liz said.

He was silent for a long time, letting her caress his fingers, his hands, before he whispered, his breath warm against the curve of her neck, "What happened?"

She shivered in the warm cocoon of his arms. "It was like Melissa said; the rebels wanted to make an example of one of the villages. Aislin's. Aislin watched her parents get murdered in front of her," Liz swallowed and forced her voice to remain steady, "and if Zan hadn't already been there, they probably would've murdered her right there as well."

"He went there to warn her, just like Melissa said."

Liz brought his right hand up to her mouth and placed a gentle kiss to the center of his palm. She felt his breathing pause for a moment, a moment she filled with, "But they were attacked while running away. They were separated during the attack and they were both abused to the brink of death."

"Why didn't they kill them?" Max asked. "They must've recognized Zan."

Liz shook her head, moving his hand down the front of her chest, so that it brushed her breast (her breathing hitched for a second at the fleeting sensation) before she settled it against her flat stomach. Max had gone completely still behind her back.

"I don't know what happened," Liz answered. "Aislin was pushed off a cliff and presumed dead. While crawling back up, the contractions started, and Zan found her halfway there."

Liz turned in his arms, Max holding still, and came to face him. Her legs were bent at the knees - the knees resting against his chest - and she felt the heat from his bare legs on each side of her hip, encasing her. She leaned in and put a hand to his cheek. His eyes were locked on hers, his gaze speaking volumes of untranslated emotions. She looked at his long dark lashes and his straight nose.

He had changed back to himself before they had gone to bed, something she was very grateful for right now. She needed to see him. Really _see_ him. She felt the result of him being without a razor for the past days prickle the palm of her hand and her fingertips as she moved her hand to trace down his face. Her fingers brushed his upper lip and he held completely still, his eyes never leaving her face even though her eyes more frequently moved to follow the trail of her fingers.

"He was badly injured," Liz whispered, a fresh tear rolling down her face. He moved, only to gently brush the tear away. "She almost didn't recognize him… If it hadn't been for his eyes."

She bent forward and placed a gentle kiss on both of his eyelids, before pulling back and taking a hold of the hem of her tank top. She started to pull it up, watching the reactions play out on his face, as she continued talking, "He had the same eyes as you. He loved her and you could see it. Just like I can see it in your eyes."

She pushed the top over her head and threw it to the side. She was naked in front of him, discounting panties and the fact that her pulled up knees were still obscuring her. She reached forward and tugged on his T-shirt. Wordlessly, he let her pull it up his body and over his head.

"He said that he would take her with him," Liz continued and brushed another tear off her cheek. "So he asked her to look at him. To ignore the pain of the contractions, the pain of their baby's death and the recent death of her parents, and look at him."

Max put warm hands in the space between her knees and gently spread them apart, letting her legs fall down on each side of his body, revealing her more fully to him. His eyes were trapping hers as he leaned in, his hands capturing her face, and kissed her.

Slowly and softly.

Their bodies automatically obeyed gravity, her back softly falling backwards and settling against the surface of the bed, her legs accompanying his body on top of hers. The feel of his skin against hers made her shiver and her body intuitively arched up against his. His lips left hers and moved down the angle of her jaw, into the curve between her chin and throat and down the pulse of her jugular.

"Max," she semi-whispered, semi-moaned.

He came back up, locking eyes with her again, caressing a strand of her hair between his fingers. "Then what happened?"

His voice was breathy and warm. She wanted to curl up in it and hide. "She disappeared."

He seemed to think about this for a second before saying, "But she's still here."

Liz shook her head, found his hand and brought it down to her breast. Her nipple hardened in response and his moan mingled with hers as she breathed, "No. _I am._"

He looked at her with those intense eyes for another second before crashing their lips together. She felt her soul opening to him as the connection flared open, causing all the nerve endings in her body to stand at attention and her body to soften in anticipation.

His hands were everywhere; floating down the sides of her waist, caressing her cheeks, burying in her hair, whisking over her breasts, pulling down her panties, and he wasted a second of not adoring her body to remove his own underwear.

Their union was like the first water to a dying person in the desert, or the pain relief to someone with crushing injuries to their leg.

To claim that it was like the fireworks at Fourth of July would possibly be corny, but that was what it was like.

She could feel him everywhere; inside her body, around her body, inside her mind and touching every inch of her skin. Her lips caressed the smoothness of his chest as he moved inside her, her teeth grazed the top of his bicep as his lips circled her nipple and her toes curled tightly as his fingers interlocked with hers, pushing their joined hands above her head and letting her fall apart underneath him.

The connection stayed open between them, let them experience not only their own feelings but the other's as well. Which brought every feeling to a spike, to an ultimate maximum.

She was barely coming down from her first high before he pushed her into the next. His body was trembling against hers and his skin was damp with sweat under her caressing hands. She brushed his damp hair off his forehead and placed a kiss there before he surrendered to his weight and put his head against her chest.

Her fingers moved through his hair slowly and contently. She was completely spent, but sleep was the furthest from her mind with the sensations of his proximity and intimacy still pulsating in her.

She knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that she loved him. _She, _Liz Parker. And she could tell from the connection that Max Evans loved her. Not Aislin.

"That was great," she whispered and laughed. She hadn't felt such happiness since all of this started. Maybe never.

He lifted his head off her chest and smiled at her. Shifting his weight onto his elbows he placed a soft kiss on her lips. "You're an amazing woman, Elizabeth Parker."

She smiled at him and let her thumbs trace his eyebrows. "Now I know why the government want to get rid of you."

He raised an eyebrow curiously. "You do?"

She nodded and bit her bottom lip self-consciously. "If humans found out how incredible alien sex is, you guys would take over the planet. We would offer no resistance."

He looked surprised for a second, before using his mouth to pull her lip away from her teeth. Against her lips, he whispered, "But then I'm no threat at all."

"No?"

"Because the only human being I'll be having sex with is you."

She smiled and looked at him as he pulled back. "Other aliens included?" She subtly included Tess in the conversation, displaying her insecurities about Max's former alien wife.

"Only. You." His seriousness melted her smile and she started worrying her lip again.

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"She doesn't want a new body," Liz said. She didn't mention her name, but Max didn't need to hear it. He nodded slowly and before he could say anything, Liz added, "That's why she wanted me to see what really happened. She wanted me to know that she would never forget that. Would never find peace with those memories."

"She doesn't want to live again," Max whispered in clarification and Liz could see that the notion made him sad. Even if this version of Zan didn't know Aislin, he could probably still sympathize with what Zan had been trying to do and be sad about him not being able to see it through all the way.

Liz wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down against her body again. She brought her legs up around the back of his legs, holding him tight.

"She wants to stay in the background, just soaking up the good qualities of us, of the memories we're going to make, and gathering glimpses of the Zan she used to know."

He was tightening against her and she realized belatedly that he couldn't be this close to her without reacting, without wanting more.

He raised himself to his elbows and claimed her mouth for another heated kiss. She was breathing hard as he pulled back and her stomach tightened as he said, "We better start making some good memories then."


	55. Chapter 54

**CHAPTER 54**  
_Maria_

Maria laughed as she saw Liz yawn. For like the fifth time in ten minutes.

Liz rubbed her eyes and met Maria's eyes with a small smile. "What?"

"Tired?" Maria asked with a pointed eyebrow at her new-found friend, putting subtext into her question. There was something about Ms. Parker this morning. Even though they were up at 3.30 in the morning after having spent a mere five hours in the motel, Maria was pretty sure that Liz's lack of sleep wasn't only due to the short time spent in the motel.

Why?

Because Liz had the same look on her face as Maria was currently sporting. The shimmering glow of a night filled with love.

Lots and lots of love.

Liz shrugged and looked away, but not before Maria could see the fresh blush on her cheeks.

"Everyone's ready to go?" Max asked from outside the van and Maria's assumptions were confirmed as Max's relaxed face came around the corner and looked into the van.

"Oh yes," Maria replied and watched the wordless look of secrets pass between Max and Liz.

"Great," Max said, forcibly tearing himself away from Liz's eyes before sliding the side door to the van shut with a large bang. He was the designated driver today.

"How are you feeling?" Liz asked around another yawn and nodded to Maria's abdomen - to her unborn child.

The van was revving to a start and was rolling out of the parking lot of their latest temporary dwelling when Maria smiled at Liz, her hands unconsciously brushing down over her slightly expanded abdomen. "Good. The nausea has started to back off a bit."

Liz smiled and Maria noted something wistful in her expression. Liz put a stray strand of brown hair behind her ear as she said, "That's really good to hear. I would hate to be on the run while being pregnant; being nauseous at the same time."

Maria grimaced, thinking back on all the times along the road that she had swallowed back vomit, being too afraid of discovery to ask Michael to pull over for a stop. "Yeah, it's a vast improvement."

They were seated next to each other with their backs against the cold metallic frame of the van. Maria had her legs stretched out in front of her, but Liz was sitting cross-legged.

Liz caught onto Maria's discomfort and put a hand on top of Maria's, which was resting against the top of her thigh. "If you need anything, just let me know." Liz shrugged. "Maybe I can help."

Maria gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks. I'm sure I'll be needing more help as I grow bigger."

Liz looked across the interior of the van with unseeing eyes. "It's exciting, isn't it?"

Her mumbled question had Maria look at the girl's profile. "What is?"

"Having a baby," Liz answered, still staring off into nothingness.

"Yeah," Maria answered. "It's amazing."

Liz turned her head to meet Maria's eyes again. "Do you think your baby will have - you know - abilities?"

It was not difficult to discern what kind of _abilities_ Liz was referring to.

"Maybe," Maria answered and shrugged. "It doesn't really matter."

"As long as it's healthy, right?" Liz asked, filling in the unspoken words.

"Yeah," Maria mumbled and looked down at her abdomen, as if she would be able to see through her skin at her creation.

She caressed her top-clad bulge and let her mind drift. Images of a baby gripping her finger, of a toddler learning how to walk, of a small child on a swing, running through grass and laughing. She always pictured a girl. She had a feeling it was going to be a girl.

"It's not even a child yet and already it's amazing."

Liz's voice brought her out of her futuristic dreams and she turned imploring eyes on Liz. "I'm sorry. What?"

"I…" Liz turned her eyes away, embarrassment coloring her cheeks, which confused Maria. Maria got the feeling that Liz wasn't only using a generic phrase, but referring to something specific.

"What?" she asked softly.

"I saw it. I saw your baby."

Maria felt her heart skip a bit and she actually gave a start as she searched Liz's profile. Searching out Liz's hand with her own, she grabbed onto it and squeezed. Her voice was breathless, anticipated, as she whispered, "You saw my baby?"

Liz nodded. "I'm sorry. I know it wasn't my place. That it was private." Liz glanced at Maria, but didn't meet her eyes. But she didn't refuse Maria's tightening grip on her hand.

Maria's eyes widened as she realized what Liz was hinting at. _The connection_. "You saw what Max saw…"

Liz bit her bottom lip and looked hastily at Maria before nodding. "I could see your baby. And even though it was still - I guess - an embryo, I could see what it was becoming-" Maria felt goosebumps spread across her skin at the awe in Liz's voice "- the transformation that hinted at a baby."

Maria gasped in wonder and felt a momentary sting in her heart. "I'm-I'm-," Maria stuttered before filling in sheepishly, "I'm jealous." She laughed and squeezed Liz's hand warmly. "I'm actually jealous."

Liz looked at her with cautious eyes, trying to gauge Maria's reaction. "It should've been you. It should've been you or Michael that got to see it."

Maria shook her head, filled with possibilities. "No… This is great news, Liz."

Liz looked worried. "It is?"

"Of course it is," Maria nodded eagerly. "This means that the experience can be shared." Maria watched Liz's eyes widen in understanding as she continued, "Maybe not with me because Max was already connected to me and I didn't see anything at the time. I should have if it were possible to be the subject as well as the object."

"But maybe Michael could-" Liz filled in slowly.

A glorious smile spread across Maria's lips as she nodded excitedly. "Exactly."

"What's that?" a gruff voice said from behind Maria, who Maria recognized as belonging to her boyfriend - the father of her child.

Maria leaned forward and gave Liz a peck on the cheek. A careful smile - not knowing how to react to Maria's exuberant affection - spread on Liz's face as Maria whispered with emphasis, "_Thank you._"

* * *

_Liz_

"Hey."

Liz didn't have to look to know who it was. She had felt him enter the small convenience store, located next to the gas station, through the connection that was still buzzing at a fever pitch between them. It had been doing so since last night.

She could feel her skin breaking out into goosebumps at the sound of his voice and her stomach curled in anticipation of his touch as his physical presence stepped within ten feet of her.

Liz didn't have to look to know that he was currently standing a foot behind her. She could feel the heat coming off his body, could count the fast rhythm of his heart as it reverberated through her system and she could feel what he felt when he saw her.

"Hey", she mumbled and closed her eyes, slowly wetting her lips.

She could feel his eyes on the back of her neck, traveling slowly up its curve to the thin skin at the back of her ear (for once, she had put her hair up in a ponytail) and how his gaze changed direction only to flow down the back of her jacket, down her legs.

She shivered with heat as she felt his gaze burn through her clothes, knowing that he knew exactly how she looked beneath those pieces of fabric. A soft moan escaped her lips as she remembered his lips - his tongue - tracing the indentions of her spine, placing kisses along the contours of her shoulder blades-

"You're in public," a sharp whisper interrupted Liz's trance and she blinked; her eyes springing open to the interior setting of the store.

Liz turned to look at the manufacturer of that interrupting sentence (Maria) with her heart thrumming in her chest and her legs being shaky and unstable. Through her dazed vision, Liz registered Maria's wink, before Maria disappeared up to the counter to pay for her bag of peanuts.

"Sorry," Max whispered next to her, and Liz's breath froze on her lips. Her eyelids felt heavy anew, longing to close - to revel in the feel that was all Max Evans.

_Was it like this for all of Max Evans' sexual partners?_

The thought of potential alternate sexual partners for Max Evans instantly sharpened her senses and brought her - partially - out of her sexual haze.

"That's okay," she breathed, suddenly breathless. She didn't dare to look at him, afraid that she might collapse into an orgasm on the spot. Instead, she kept her head down and reached for the bag of M&amp;Ms in front of her.

His hand closed around her wrist, just below the hem of her jacket, and breath left her again. His palm burnt against her skin and she could feel the throb of her pulse against where his fingertips connected with the underside of her wrist.

"Are you okay?" he whispered and he was even closer now. He had taken a step into her personal space, his body (his oh so strong and masculine warm body) brushing against her side.

She was sure he could tell exactly how she was - what she was feeling - through their connection. But she loved that he needed to ask, that he needed to talk to her.

"Uh-huh," she nodded and licked her lips.

She felt the buzz of desire sharply increase and through him she saw herself slowly wetting her lips, which translated to him remembering her lips on his skin. She closed her eyes against the dizziness.

"Seriously, guys. If you want to get some, you should do it now. We have to leave."

Liz jumped at Maria's intruding voice, first misunderstanding the double entendre, before flushing red. She blinked up to Max's face, seeing his matching embarrassed expression. There was a smaller explosion as their eyes connected and Liz felt herself falling-

Max's grip on her wrist tightened and she fell back into her body. Stable - with both feet on the ground. A wrinkle of concern settled between his eyes and he whispered, "Really? Are you okay?"

She leaned in close to him, seeing his pupils widen as she closed the distance, leaving only an inch between their faces as she whispered, "Is it always like this?"

"Always like what?" he whispered back, his eyes caressing her face before catching onto her eyes again.

"Sex. With you." She felt embarrassed to voice it, even though - after last night - they were way past modesty.

He shrugged, looking down, and Liz felt a temporary chill through the connection. "I wouldn't know."

She bit her lower lip and looked up at him through her eyelashes, suddenly feeling self-conscious about having this discussion. None of them were aware of their surroundings, of the clatter and voices of the convenience store, as they stood staring at each other inside their bubble.

"No one has told you anything before?" she asked quietly, silently admonishing herself for bringing it up. Did she really want the answers to these questions? Did she really want to know about the ex's?

A fleeting smile touched his lips and he was looking at her pensively as he slowly brushed a strand of her hair, which had come loose from the ponytail, away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "You're the first."

She nodded and said simply, "Okay," before she realized that he might not just mean that no one had told him of their experiences before, but- Her eyes widened as she froze. "You're- I- We?"

His expression remained serious, in spite of her stammering, as he cradled her cheek in his hand and angled her chin so that his lips could meet hers softly. She felt the dizziness attack her again, the accumulation of strong feelings into that local spot where his lips touched hers, and braced her suddenly weak body with her palm against his chest.

He leaned his forehead against hers and she felt his breath against her lips as she whispered, "I was first. I was _your_ first."

He didn't say anything, his silence confirming her words as his thumb slowly caressed her cheek.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

She felt his calmness through the connection, but she felt anything but.

She had basically attacked him yesterday and he had been a virgin.

Oh God, _he had been a virgin._

"Are you okay?" he asked softly and she almost laughed at the absurdity.

Was _she_ okay? What about him? He had sex yesterday - with yours truly - and she hadn't noticed his inexperience.

He had been a pro, for God's sake!

He had tended to her needs perfectly (she felt the heat spreading in her body at the memories that quickly invaded her senses) and they had fitted together so perfectly (the heat itched up her face). She felt the heat explode, making it hard to breathe and she stumbled a step backwards. She needed to breathe. Needed space.

She didn't dare to look up at him. Didn't dare to meet his eyes. But she could feel his gaze on the top of her head and hear his gradually increasing alarm through their connection.

"You didn't tell me," she whispered, so softly that he shouldn't have been able to hear her. But he did. They were so tuned in to each other that there were no secrets.

Well, there shouldn't have been any secrets.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this here," his voice broke through the blazing stuffed air around her.

She didn't know why she reacted like this. Maybe it was because she hadn't 'deflowered' anyone before. Maybe it was because she herself had had sex before, when she for some reason felt like she should have waited - waited for him. Maybe it was because she hadn't been able to tell, because his hands had moved so expertly across the expanse of her skin and his mouth had brought her to spinning heights. Over and over again.

_Oh God._

She brushed her hands down her face and tried to take a deep breath.

And in the process of rubbing her fingers against her temples, her eyes closed, another voice broke through her inner monologue of self-blame, making her snap her eyes open in terrified shock.

"Lizzie?"

Staring back at her, next to a suddenly frozen Max, was the equally still face of her friend from her adolescence and the majority of her adult life.

Her voice was whispered and strained as she whispered, "Alex?"


	56. Chapter 55

_brokenbride - *laughs* I don't think there's a support group yet, but there might be the need for one ;-) I'm posting at another page where I'm starting to get the feeling that my poor readers need a support group soon... Thank you so much!_

**CHAPTER 55**  
_Alex_

Alex Whitman was not a fool.

With an IQ of 131 and a background at Simon's Rock - a school for gifted children - Alex had no trouble putting two and two together.

After having seen his friend Liz's face on the news one day, he had immediately started an investigation on his own. According to Liz's father, Liz had gone on a trip around the world. How had she then ended up in the company of criminals? And in America, nonetheless, when she was supposed to be abroad.

Things just didn't add up.

Only a day after her face had gone up on 'Most Wanted'-lists around the US, Mr. Parker had contacted Alex and told him that Liz had called him to let him know that the inquiry placed on her by the FBI and the police was false; that she was being innocently accused.

Alex had no troubles believing this, since the possibility of Liz actually being a criminal was so far-fetched that it was ludicrous. He could not, however, disregard the possibility that Liz had somehow been brainwashed and was being pulled along with a group of people against her will.

This had prompted Alex Whitman to initiate his own search by employing his mean computer skills. Elizabeth Parker meant a lot to him. More than he had dared to let her know and even more than he would let himself acknowledge.

This was demonstrated by the fact that he had not had a meaningful relationship in the last five years. Secretly, he was still holding out for her. Hoping that she might, one day, see him in another light. That she would stop regarding him as the goofy friend and instead melt by the loving look in his eyes and the warmth in his care for her well-being.

For Elizabeth Parker, Alex Whitman was prepared to break rules. A lot of rules. For instance, 1) hacking into FBI's server and 2) surveil police activity by listening to a police scanner currently installed in his car.

Breaking those two rules had lead him straight onto Liz's trail, until the FBI had lost track of her outside of a shopping mall in Canada. But the law enforcement lacked something that Alex had. A way to think and deduce in the way of Elizabeth Parker.

Granted, he was pretty sure that Liz wasn't calling the shots and giving orders on where to direct the getaway car, but he was rather convinced that she had a say in it. And even though Alex wasn't granted a peek into Liz's love life, he knew Liz's mind and her way of thinking. Enough to deduce the direction where she might have fled, whereas the FBI's trail was growing ice cold.

As he was closing in on Chilliwack, in the South-West of Canada, he couldn't stop himself from thinking of the background checks he had found on Liz's 'friends' while hacking into the FBI data base. He hadn't been able to steer his mind away from it since he had first stumbled upon the facts. There was also a comprehensive background on Liz, but most of those details he already knew.

Plus, Liz's file was not marked with a 'Questionable human status'-comment, which in contrast her accomplices' files were.

What the hell that meant was still something of a mystery to Alex. Of course, he could easily read between the lines of the background checks - about _healing_ and _force fields_ and _amnesia_ \- and suspect that a rational governmental agency was somehow hinting that his Liz was hanging out with _aliens_, but the whole thing was too preposterous to wrap his head around. It must be code words for something else.

It was when he was trying to come up with plausible alternatives to the alien explanation that he passed by a gas station and spotted a white van. The police had never had a chance to see exactly how how the group had managed to escape them at Edmonton, but they had seen a white van accelerate out of the parking lot and had suspected that to be them. Still, they hadn't managed to track the van down. But something told Alex, at that glimpse of the white van as he was speeding past, that it wasn't one of the numerous vans having been stopped for checks by the police at various road stops.

This was them. Liz was here.

He had stepped on the brakes, almost causing the car behind him to slam into him. The car behind had honked furiously and its driver had gestured angrily at Alex as he'd passed Alex's car which had skidded to a near stop. Alex looked to his right and left before crossing the lanes and heading back in the direction from which he had come.

* * *

That was how he found himself staring at the woman he had searched for these previous two weeks and his voice took over when he couldn't get the rest of his body to function. "Lizzie?"

She was partly hidden by the body of a man, her eyes were closed and her hair was blonde. But he would have recognized her anywhere.

At his question, her eyes sprung open and instantly sought his out. He watched her beautiful brown eyes widen in surprise (or was it shock?) as she saw him and her question was one of confirmation. "Alex?"

He took a step forward at the same time as the man standing between them turned. The man was so smooth in his motions that the speed with which he moved was almost inconspicuous. Almost.

Alex found himself looking into the green eyes of a handsome man, the man from the 'Most Wanted'-photos and the FBI-files. Even though Alex could've sworn that the man's eyes had been brown in the files (he must be wearing contacts), the man's name came to Alex at once.

_Maxwell Evans._

Max had taken a small step sideways, moving in front of Liz, and Alex looked at the man which outweighed him by several pounds of muscle and wondered briefly if he had just put himself in a lot of danger.

Before he could open his mouth and reveal Max's identity to the handful of idle shoppers in the small store, Liz stepped around Max and walked up to Alex. Alex couldn't help but notice how Max took a hold of Liz's hand as she passed him and how he kept holding onto her even as she stopped in front of Alex.

Alex looked into her big and warm eyes up close, at how her long eyelashes accentuated her natural beauty, at the softness of her lips and the small smile lingering in the corner of her mouth. He decided that blonde was not her color, before he registered the warm blush of her cheeks and the trace of fear in her eyes.

"Alex," she whispered, taking his hand with her free hand. Her hand was small in his, warm and familiar, and he squeezed it desperately as he met her eyes with a thousand questions.

"Who is he?" Alex said in a hushed tone, without preamble, hitching his chin in the direction of Max. Max had stepped closer to Liz and was now standing behind her, her back basically touching his front, and the look in his eyes was alert, suspicious and intimidating.

"Al, what are you doing here?" Liz asked, and quickly looked around herself before lowering her voice and leaning in closer. "You _can't_ be here. It's too dangerous."

"Liz," his hold on her hand tightened. He wanted to forcibly pull her away from the man standing behind her, wanted to save her from this life she seemed to be leading, and return her to her previously sane and safe environment. "We have to talk."

"No," she shook her head, her eyes widening in fear.

"You're being hunted by the police-" Alex started, but Liz interrupted him.

"Then you know that this is too dangerous. You can't talk to me, Alex. You can't be here. It'll make you an accomplice."

"Accomplice to what?" Alex hissed, leaning in closer.

Liz pulled back slightly and whispered under her breath. "It's okay, Max."

Alex looked at Max, at how he seemed to be standing even closer, and wondered at the communication between the two.

Who was this Max Evans and what was he to Liz?

"He's a friend," Liz added, still talking to Max, even though her eyes were caught up in Alex's.

"Yes, I'm your _friend_ and I'm trying to help you here," Alex whispered fervently. "You don't belong here, Liz. You need to turn yourself in, tell them that you had nothing to do with...that robbery. You need to go back to your life. Your _normal_ life."

"I _can't_," Liz whispered, her eyes burning into him. "This is my life now. I can't go back. They'll hurt me."

Alex frowned. _They?_ "Who will hurt you? The police? The FBI?"

"Both," Liz said desperately and jumped as the bell of the door chimed.

Alex looked over his shoulder to see a tall blonde girl walk in and his heart missed a beat. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

His reaction to her was instantaneous, the your-mind-is-suddenly-emptied-of-all-logical-thought-while-your-body-heats-up-with-irrational-emotions kind of reaction.

She flickered suspicious and chilled brown eyes in his direction while passing them. Alex, in his sudden daze, didn't fail to recognize the look that passed between Max and the woman, and he realized why he sort of recognized the woman. She was Max's sister - Isabel Evans.

And her photo hadn't done her justice.

"Do you need to talk to him?" Max asked evenly, his question for Liz, but his eyes not leaving Alex's face.

Liz searched Alex's face and he felt her hand in his resonate her resignation before she answered, "Yes. Yes, I think I do."

"Okay," Max answered and bent forward, putting his mouth to Liz's ear. Alex saw Liz transform in front of him. His mouth fell open in astonishment as Liz's eyes drifted close, her hand fell out of Alex's and her lips parted slightly, as she listened to what Max was whispering in her ear.

Max was, of course, still keeping an eye on Alex. The mistrust was so thick Alex could have cut it with a knife.

As Max pulled back, Liz opened her eyes and nodded, repeating her previous explanation in a whisper, "He's my friend."

"I'll be right here," Max answered softly and even though it was probably construed as a comforting promise to Liz's ears, all Alex heard was a concealed threat directed at him.

Liz nodded again and reached out for Alex hand. Grabbing it, she pulled him with her as she walked past him towards the back of the store. Alex turned his head and looked behind him, at the Amazon princess standing beside the Adonis king, following their every movement, before Liz pulled him into an old telephone booth and closed the drape around them.

Then her arms were around his neck, her nose pressed into the side of his neck and Alex's heart leaped in his chest with concern as his arms moved around her small body to return the desperate hug. Chills ran through him as he heard her sniffle against his collarbone and he was already thinking up ways to rescue her from her kidnappers when she pulled back, wiped her wet eyes with the back of hand and looked up at him with a brilliant smile.

"You came for me," she whispered brokenly.

He inhaled deeply and reached forward to tuck a strand of her (now blonde) hair behind her ear. "Of course I came for you."

"I'm so happy you came," she whispered and let out a sniffle, before squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. Her voice had sharpened, grown determined, as she added, "But you're putting yourself in a lot of danger. If you could find us, the police won't be far behind."

He scoffed. "The police? Please. They couldn't find the back of their hands with a map."

She bit her lip and his heart softened. God, how he had missed her.

"The FBI's different," she answered. "They're not dumb…"

"Liz," he took a deep breath and took a hold of her right hand. "Let me take you out of here."

She shook her head. "No, Alex. I chose this-"

He was shaking his head, already interrupting her. "No, you didn't choose _this._ Maybe you chose _him,_" he inclined his head towards the rest of the store, where Max Evans was waiting, "but I bet you didn't sign up for this. Being hunted. Being…lawless."

"It's not true, you know," Liz said softly. "They're not what the police is making them out to be. They're good people."

Alex thought of the look in Max's eyes as he had moved in to stand protectively in front of Liz before. "No. They're dangerous."

"They're just trying to lead normal lives. They don't want to disturb anyone."

She was brainwashed. The lies they had imprinted in her…

"Don't you see, Liz?" his voice tightened along with his grip on her hand. "They're tricking you. That guy out there - _Max Evans_ \- wants you to come along. Like some sick Bonnie and Clyde thing. He'll say anything to make you come along, to trust him." He shook his head in disappointment, dropping his eyes to their interlocked hands. "I thought you were smarter than that."

"Al," Liz said quietly, making him meet her eyes again. "Max Evans saved me from getting raped. _He_ was the one saving me from almost getting killed that night."

Alex's heart tightened. _Damn._ He knew that. In the back of his memory, he had recognized the name 'Max' while going through the FBI-files as the same name that Liz had mentioned as her rescuer. If Max Evans was the guy that had saved her, it meant that Liz felt an obligation to the guy. Which would make it so much harder to convince her that he was bad news.

"The FBI _kidnapped_ me, _drugged_ me, and left me out in the cold to die."

Alex frowned. That didn't sound right. What the hell were Max Evans and his friends doing to Liz's mind? How were they making her believe this? Of course, if the stuff he had been reading about them in the FBI-files were anything close to the truth, maybe they were capable of making one believe anything.

Alex looked closely at his friend, at the nervousness of her movements and the pleading in her glistening eyes. He almost didn't recognize her. Not because of her changed hair color or the clothes on her body (that were not really the right size) but because of her behaviors. All the small movements she did that he had never seen Elizabeth Parker do before.

The Elizabeth Parker he knew was not paranoid or scared. She didn't tell stories of an evil government agency and didn't accuse the law enforcement of lying.

The fear for her well-being seeped into his voice as he whispered, "What have they done to you?"

"Nothing," she whispered back, a tear rolling down her cheek. "You _have_ to believe me, Al. _They_" she pointed in the direction of the rest of the store "are not the enemy. We're the good guys here. We're trying to survive. And to do so, we had to leave."

"I'm not leaving you here. With them." His mind was made up. If he couldn't make her leave, he would stay with her. Protect her from any further injury being done to her beautiful mind.

Frustrated, she wiped a tear off her cheek, freed her hand from his and took a hold of his upper arms, shaking him slightly.

The action would have been laughable in any other circumstance. She was almost two heads shorter than him and was shaking him like a disobedient child. But the haunted and terrified look in her eyes made the situation dead serious; the feel of her fingers digging into his upper arms and the subsequent shaking seem life important.

"You have to listen to me, Alex. You _can't_ come with us. This is not your fight. I can't be responsible for putting you in danger, to put your life on hold, for me. You're an amazing friend, Alex," tears were tumbling down her cheeks and in a way she was strikingly beautiful in that moment - passion, love and sorrow exploding out of her red brimmed large eyes, her lips red and glistening with desperation and her cheeks flushed brightly red with anguish, "You came looking for me and that is the most beautiful thing anyone's ever done for me. But your journey stops right here. I need you to turn back. Go back home. And forget about me. Please, Alex." Her voice broke and his heart broke along with it. "If you love me, you have to let me go. You have to forget me."

His heart was throbbing loudly in his ears, his whole body felt like it was going to explode. A shudder went through him as he looked at the shivering state of the almost dissolved Elizabeth Parker in front of him. She was desperate, desperate to save him.

And all he wanted to do was to save her.

But he felt calm as he simply stated, "I can't forget you, Elizabeth Parker."

And he bent down, across the eleven inches of height difference between them, and - for the first time in their existence together - softly put his lips against hers. She grew still beneath his touch and he just held still, letting the feel of the softness of her warm lips press against his for a total of five wonderful seconds before he pulled back.

She looked up at him, her eyes empty of questions, but filled with sorrow.

"I could never forget you," Alex emphasized.

She seemed to hesitate before she said, very quietly, "They're aliens, Alex. They're not completely human."

He stared at her and let her talk. Even though she was practically reciting what the reports had hinted at, he still couldn't make himself believe it.

"And the FBI wants to capture them, experiment on them, find out if they're here to exterminate the human race and then - probably - exterminate them. They've never done anything wrong. They haven't done anything to harm humans. Max works - _worked_ \- as an EMT. He helped people for a living. He cured his friend from terminal cancer. They're only fighting for their existence here. Their world - their planet - was destroyed. They have no other home but here." She took a deep breath, her eyes blinked once - twice - before she added, "And I love him."

That didn't come as a surprise to Alex. It hadn't been too difficult to see the love between them when Max and Liz had been standing next to each other. But to hear it was difficult.

Because somehow he knew that Liz's love for Max was beyond everything. Beyond anything she would ever feel for him - for Alex. Next to Max, Alex didn't stand a chance. Max would always win.

"He's saved my life twice," Liz continued, sympathy for him - acknowledging Alex's feelings for her and how her words might be hurting him, "Once when I was four years old, and then when David Perkins attacked me."

Alex froze and recited her words in his head. _Once when I was four…_

"What do you mean? You met Max when you were four?"

She nodded, taking a step back from him, as if she couldn't talk about that with him standing too close. Her arms folded around her waist. "The accident that killed my mom… It also killed me."

A chill went through him. What had this Max-person been telling Liz?

"I was dead, and Max - being just a kid himself - brought me back. He didn't even know he was doing it. That's how he was able to save me from David. He had formed some type of connection with me when he resuscitated me as a child and could sense when I was in danger."

A laugh escaped him and Liz took another step away from him, looking as if he had slapped her. "I'm sorry," he whispered, regretting his reflex immediately. "But this… Liz. Can't you hear how ridiculous this all sounds? Come on… _Aliens? Bringing someone back from the dead? Mental connections?_ It all reads like some bad science fiction novel."

She dropped her eyes, brushing fresh tears off her cheeks, as she mumbled to her shoes, "That's why you can't come with me. Because you don't understand. Because you can't believe."

He took a step towards her and grabbed her chin, forcing her eyes up to his. "Is this some kind of cult, Lizzie? What are they threatening you with? Are they threatening to hurt your dad? What is it?"

He was feeling frustration mixing with desperation. He wanted to just throw her over his shoulder and carry her away from there. She was not herself anymore. He needed to get her out of here. Maybe he should call the police himself; they could sort her out. She probably needed to see a therapist, maybe even be put on medicine.

She pulled her face away from his, her jaw tightening in anger. "They're not threatening me. You're not listening to me. Please, Alex. Leave. Leave me alone. I have a new life now. You need to forget me."

Just then, the drape was pulled to the side and Alex was looking at a very terrifying version of Max Evans' face. Max's eyes quickly surveyed the interior of the telephone booth before stopping at Liz's face. "You okay?"

Alex startled at the softness of the voice, in strong disparity to the displeased look in his eyes.

"He's a friend from school," Liz whispered tiredly, as if running low of explanations, and Max looked back at Alex.

Alex swallowed.

"What did you say to her?" Max demanded sharply.

Alex straightened, knowing that he needed to appear strong, to help Liz. "That I want her to come with me. That you're some kind of cult that has kidnapped her and are feeding her lies."

Max's jaw tightened. "She can't leave."

"I have a car outside," Alex said coolly. "It would be very easy for her to leave."

"Her life is in danger," Max said stoically. "And you are not capable of protecting her."

"The only people she needs protection from are you," Alex answered between his teeth.

Max looked sideways, at Liz, who was keeping her gaze at the floor, her arms tight around her chest - as if trying to hold herself together.

Max reached out with his hand towards her and she looked up, took his hand and let him pull her to his side. Alex watched her relax against his side, almost collapsing against his body. The way you only did when you trusted someone wholeheartedly. The way Liz had never done with any other man she had ever been in a relationship with.

"She's not leaving," Max repeated.

"Then I'm coming with you," Alex said evenly.

"No," Liz protested, straightening next to Max. "No, you can't come." She looked up at Max, who wasn't meeting her pleading eyes. "Please, he can't come."

"Did you tell him?" Max asked, his eyes on Alex, and Alex had no trouble figuring out what Max was referring to. Had Liz told him about their bogus cover story for this whole operation?

"She told me," Alex answered darkly before Liz could respond. "And I actually don't understand why she believes you."

"You can't tell anyone what you heard today," Max said, ignoring Alex's accusation. "Liz told you that in confidence; to make you understand why she has to be with us. That information is deadly; if you tell the wrong person, not only will you put our lives in danger, but also your own."

"Tess can make him forget."

The three people in the small compartment turned their eyes towards the tall girl who had appeared behind the drape.

"No," Max said. "He's Liz's friend. We won't do that to anyone's friends."

Alex was caught up in the beauty of the face of the newest addition to the conversation. Isabel Evans.

"Maybe it would be safer," Liz said.

Alex watched Isabel raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow, saying, "See. Even Liz thinks it would be for the best. Besides, no one granted her the right to spill the beans."

"I'm sorry," Liz whispered.

Max brought their interlaced hands up to his mouth and kissed the back of her hand, looking at her briefly. "It's okay."

"Or he'll come along," Isabel continued, giving Alex a look that he couldn't quite decipher.

"It's too dangerous," Liz repeated and Alex got the feeling that Liz was the one most opposed to him tagging along.

Something that hurt him more than he would admit.

"Maybe we should put it up to a vote," Isabel said.

"Let him come," Max said quietly, his eyes - for once - hesitant as he appraised Alex. "It might be safer."

Isabel shrugged. "Besides, we can always mind warp him later. If it doesn't work out."

_Mind warp?_ Alex thought with a shudder. He didn't like that phrase.

He caught the apprehensive look in Liz's eyes before he cautiously agreed to joining this cult - or whatever it was. "It's decided then. I'm coming along."


	57. Chapter 56

**CHAPTER 56**  
_Max_

"What the hell? What is this? The social event of the year? 'Grab a friend and go on a run from the police'?"

"Calm down, Michael," Isabel said, which earned her a terrifying look from Michael.

Max could understand him. Even to Max, who had been there when the decision had been taken, was a bit confounded by Isabel's reaction to the whole thing. She was taking the subject of another human addition to their group a little _too_ lightly.

"I'm not sure what your plan is here, Maxwell," Melissa said tightly, "but we really can't take on another human being. Liz was enough."

Max felt fury flow through him. He had been under the impression that Melissa had accepted Liz by now. That because he shared a connection with Liz and she was harboring an Antarian soul, Melissa would be a bit more accepting of her. But apparently that wasn't the case.

"Melissa's right," Maria said quietly, seated in the passenger seat at the front of the van. "This…Alex person doesn't have any connection to us. The larger our group gets, the more vulnerable we become to being discovered."

"I didn't want him here," Liz said tiredly next to Max and he felt his heart clench painfully.

Liz's pain was screaming at him, in his mind, throughout his whole body. He could feel how much she loved her friend and how badly she wanted to protect him. And just like Max had tried to protect Liz by encouraging her not to come with him, she was trying to do the same thing for her friend.

"Sure you did," Michael said angrily. "Of course you want some humans friends with you on this trip. It will make you feel less lonely."

"Michael!" Maria admonished as Max flexed his fists, trying to keep his anger in check.

"This is not Liz's doing," Max said, his jaw tightening with every word. "He wanted to come."

"So what if he did?" Michael said in a raised voice. "This _trip_ of ours doesn't come with an open invitation. Just because someone wants to join, doesn't mean they can. You of all people should know that, Max."

"It was either coming with us or mind warping the guy," Isabel said mildly.

Max saw Tess flinch on the other side of the van. She kept mostly to herself (as much to yourself as you could when crammed into a van with five other people) and had barely spoken a word in two days.

"Why would you have to mind warp the guy?" Michael asked. "Just send him on his way. Tell him to stop looking for Liz. It's as simple as that."

"Liz-" Max looked at Isabel as she started her answer and tried to gain eye contact with her to stop her from saying what he knew she would say. But it was too late. "-Liz told Alex about us."

One could hear a pin drop. The silence echoed in the crowded van.

Then Michael got to his feet and stomped up to Liz. But Max was faster, springing to his feet and stepping in front of Liz. He could feel Liz's fear pulsating through their connection as Michael took a hold of Max's collar.

"Let me through, Maxwell," Michael ground out.

"You can't blame her," Max replied forcefully, grabbing a hold of Michael's shoulders.

"_You can't possibly be that dumb_," Michael yelled around Max, his words shooting at Liz. "Not even I thought you could be that dumb."

"Calm down, Michael," Max said, pushing against Michael's weight.

But Michael's attention was on Liz. "_You told him?_ Who the fuck gives you the right to go blabbering our secret to strangers, huh?"

"I didn't mean to," Liz said behind Max and Max pushed harder at Michael.

"_Let me go,_" Michael pushed out angrily, hot angry eyes flickering to Max.

"Not until you take a step back, Michael," Max replied and pushed harder.

Michael stumbled backwards, his hands losing their grip on Max's sweater, and he inhaled deeply before he (against the background of Maria's desperate - "_Don't, Michael!"_ ) rushed towards Max's body with a roar.

Max's body went down hard on the metallic floor, his shoulder slamming into the unyielding material, and before he had time to catch his breath, Michael's fist connected with his left cheek. He felt the impact resonate through his head, heat and pain explode in a chorus in his jaw and nose. The back of his head bumped against the floor and his head started ringing.

He was mildly aware of the screams of protests around him as his vision momentarily blurred, then he brought his own fist up and aimed at Michael's wild and furious face. He connected with his friend's ear, as Michael had time to slightly turn away when reading Max's intention.

Instead Michael's fist came down on Max again, another hit across his cheek, magnifying the pain that was already there, and Max could taste blood in his mouth. The ringing intensified as he struggled to get his hands up, to protect himself, and then there was a green light in front of his eyes and he could feel energy being pulled from his body.

He watched Michael's eyes widen in surprise on the other side of the green veil, his hands frozen in a fighting position (like a boxer preparing to fight), as he took a step backwards.

Then he heard Liz through the ringing. Liz, like he had never heard her before.

"_Get away from him!_"

And he looked up over his right shoulder and saw her kneeling next to him, her left hand on his shoulder and her right hand stretched out in front of her. And Max felt his heart rate accelerate. The green light - the force field - was Liz's doing.

Somehow, she was producing a protective shield around them.

Max could nothing but stare at Liz in shock and something akin to awe, completely missing how Michael lowered his hands in resignation and took several steps away from Max. The light flickered out around them and then Liz's eyes were on his. She swayed slightly, the fingers of her left hand digging into his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asked breathlessly.

He was still staring at her. He couldn't get his mind to form words, especially not sentences.

"You're bleeding," she whispered and her hands were brushing over his face as she leaned over him.

He winced as she touched his already inflamed cheek and grabbed her examining hand with his own. "I'm fine," he whispered. "I'm okay."

"Was that you, Max?" Max looked past Liz at Isabel, who was taking a cautious step towards them. "Was it you that did that?"

"No," Max said wondrously, looking back at Liz's dark expressive pools. He could feel her confusion and trepidation swirl between them, and the fatigue that was slowly gripping her. The same fatigue that he felt after having used a lot of his powers. "No. It was Liz."

"But she's…" Tess was coming up behind Liz, her eyes expression the same confusion they all felt. "She's human."

"Was it Aislin?" Melissa asked.

Max looked into Liz's concerned eyes - concern for his well-being - and brought the palm of her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss there. Through their connection, he made sure she could feel his gratitude. And there was no question who was on the other side of the connection. It was not Aislin. Liz had done this. Liz had somehow tapped into his powers through their connection and helped him.

"How did you know how to do that?" he asked her with a frown.

"I didn't," she replied, matching his frown. "I guess, instinct took over. I needed to protect you."

"I'm sorry, man," Michael's voice broke through and everyone turned their eyes towards the tall guy with the regretful downward tilt of his head. "I didn't mean to- to hit you so hard. I didn't- I don't know why I couldn't stop. If Liz hadn't-"

"It's okay," Max replied and rose onto his elbows.

He could understand how Michael's frustration over these past few weeks had eventually culminated in this. Max had been very aware of how much Michael had been wanting to do that for months. Maybe now, things could calm down. Maybe Michael had finally got it out of his system.

Maybe.

"Liz, I'm-" Michael started and Liz turned away from Max and looked at Michael.

Max couldn't see her face from his angle, but he could see Michael's. And judging from the ashamed expression on his friend's face, Liz's eyes were anything but forgiving.

"Not now, Michael."

Max had a feeling that Liz had no trouble forgiving Michael for almost attacking her. Her unwillingness to forgive was because of how Michael had acted towards Max just now.

"I'm so disappointed in you," Maria said as she brushed past Michael and Max felt a sting in his heart at the sad look on Michael's face. Like a rejected puppy, he slumped over in one corner of the van, turning his head away from them.

Maria dropped to her knees next to Max, who was now getting up into a sitting position. Maria, in the manner of Liz previously, skimmed her hands over Max's face. "Oh my God, Max. I thought he was going to kill you."

"Nah," Max said and carefully traced his swollen bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, tasting blood. "He just needed to get it out of his system."

"That doesn't make it okay," Maria said and turned to loudly say over her shoulder, "_It's not okay, Michael._"

Maria turned her attention back to Max and grabbed Liz's hand that was resting against his chest. Liz looked at Maria in surprise.

"Thank you," Maria addressed Liz.

Max felt the confusion and the modesty swim in the connection as he saw the small smile on Liz's lips before she dropped her head and met his eyes.

"So… Liz has powers now?" Isabel asked.

"No," Max answered and put an arm around Liz. He frowned as he felt the trembles rushing through her body. Distracted from Isabel's answer, he turned his full attention on Liz. He put his hand against her forehead and felt the heat scalding her skin. "Liz, you're burning up."

"I'm a bit tired," she whispered, her eyes blinking slowly.

Fear squeezed his heart as he shuffled so that he was seated opposite her. He cradled her warm face between his hands, his hold urging her to look at him. "Look at me."

"I'm a bit dizzy," she whispered and squinted as if the dim light was hurting her eyes.

"Keep your eyes on me," he repeated and started feeding her his energy through the connection. Refueling what had been depleted.

"Max, what's wrong?" Maria asked next to him, but he ignored her. He had to focus on Liz now.

He could feel Liz's body temperature come down as he topped up her energy, and when he pulled away her eyes were once again alert as she regarded him curiously.

"What?" he asked with a smile, confident with the support of the connection that she was okay again.

"It's amazing how you do that," she said breathlessly and he felt himself blush. He knew that everyone was watching them, waiting for answers, but all he wanted to do was to kiss her senseless. Right there and then.

"She used your energy, your powers," Melissa said, breaking the mood.

Max let his hands slide down Liz's throat, before he removed them and scooted a feet back. He wouldn't be able to concentrate with her sitting so close. It was hard enough with the connection between them.

Max nodded. "Yes. Is that possible?"

"Never heard of it before," Melissa replied and she sounded perplexed.

"Well, we can feed each other energy," Isabel objected. "And I've been able to heal as long as I'm connected to Max."

"You all have those abilities, they're just not active in you all the time," Melissa answered. "So with an energy connection between you, you could essentially share powers. But… Liz is human. She shouldn't be able to do that."

"But you're sure it's Liz, not Aislin?" Isabel asked, looking at Liz suspiciously.

"It's me, Isabel," Liz answered with a smile in her direction.

Isabel looked relieved. "Good." Looking at Max, she grimaced. "Then maybe you could use his healing power and fix the mess Michael just did."

Max felt an icy chill run through him. "No!"

They all looked at him in surprise. Belatedly, he realized - by the look on Liz's face - that she had been hurt by his refusal. As if he didn't want her help.

"She can't do healing," he said quietly, the fear at the prospect of her doing just that immobilizing him. "You saw what it did to her to put up a force field. Healing might just…kill her."

Liz's fear was clear and sudden through the connection as she realized the truth behind his refusal of her help. Max turned to Isabel. "But you could do it."

"Of course," Isabel replied and took Maria's place next to Max. As Isabel was healing Max's face, Max felt energy being pulled not only from himself but also from Liz. It worried him, making him think of what this could mean for the future. If Liz was so intimately connected to him, everything he did would indirectly affect her.

When Isabel was finished, Max reached out for Liz's hand and felt the familiar tingle at the contact; something he wished would never disappear. "You okay?" he asked her and she nodded.

"Isabel did good job," Liz whispered with a tentative smile and Max squeezed her hand. While he was impressed by the things she had to handle, had to experience, he also regretted that he was putting her through all of this.


	58. Chapter 57

_brokenbride - Thank you for the feedback! :-D_

**CHAPTER 57**  
_Liz_

His breath was warm and comforting against the side of her neck, his arm relaxed across her waist, his right hand warm against the bareness of her skin where it had crept up underneath her sweater. His breathing was calm and steady, telling of deep sleep. If that wasn't convincing enough, the calmness through their connection was.

But Liz couldn't sleep. Max's supplement of energy was still buzzing through her body, as if she'd had way too many cups of coffee (and she didn't even drink coffee).

With the sleeping bodies of everyone but Melissa - who was driving - around her, Liz had only her thoughts to keep her company. Those thoughts of hers were proving to be bad company, fretting over the fact that Alex was included in the head count of sleeping bodies in the van. After the fight between Max and Michael, everyone had kind of sided with Max, feeling that it probably was for the best if Alex came along. He knew too much now and in any case, he needed to be convinced of the aliens' legitimacy before he was cut loose. The risk of him exposing them was lower if he believed them; if he was on their side.

Fortunately, Alex had not been there during their meeting, which had spiraled way out of control. He had been safely tucked away in his car, listening to music, while they had regrouped to 'discuss his eventual membership to the I-know-an-alien club'.

If he had been privy to that violent meeting, he probably would have called the police on them immediately, convinced that Liz was in fact part of a criminal and dangerous group of people.

Instead, Alex was now asleep just two feet away from Isabel. Isabel had arranged it that way, and for not the first time Liz wondered about this. If she hadn't known Isabel as well as she thought, she might have hypothesized that Isabel had an interest in Alex. Since Liz knew Alex like a brother, she was certain that Alex had an interest in Isabel.

Even though it was Liz that Alex had kissed at that gas stop.

Liz bit her lower lip at the memory. It had been sweet and soft and innocent. So completely different from the way Max kissed her. Nothing of the exploding emotions and restrained passion pressed against her lips.

Alex had just waited, maybe just enjoying the sensation, and Liz could still remember how her heart had pressed up against the base of her throat. She had felt Max in her head then. In retrospect, she was almost 98% certain that he knew that Alex had kissed her. But before she could react to the kiss - the surprise of his act rooting her to the spot - Alex had pulled back.

She had felt sorry for him and sad that she was unable to reciprocate his feelings. She'd had an inkling that he had been having non-platonic feelings for her for a while, but she had always hoped that she had been successful in not sending him mixed signals. So that he wouldn't get any false hopes.

Maybe today had been a desperate move on his part. Maybe he was hoping that she would change her mind if he kissed her, and come with him. Or maybe he was doing it because he was afraid he might not see her again. She shifted in Max's hold, and his hand slid up, to cover her right breast.

She froze and tried to still the feelings the touch of his hand against her bra - not even skin against skin - brought. She fought the sudden impulse to turn in his arms and taste his lips, to skim her hands under his shirt only to rip it off him, to feel his mouth on her skin as he was waking up-

She shook her head forcefully to rid it of the thoughts and reached under her shirt to take a hold of his hand to direct it back to her stomach. They were not alone. This was not the right place for those type of feelings.

"Can't sleep?"

She jumped at his soft voice against her ear. While fighting her sexual urges she had missed the small signs of him waking up. She felt herself go beet red, her most recent thoughts flashing in her mind as if they wanted to propel themselves at Max in screaming revelation.

"Just thinking," she whispered back.

His previously relaxed hand against her stomach (where she had just returned it), pressed up against the flat expanse of her abdomen, pushing her body up against the front of his, while he nuzzled his nose into the curve of her neck.

He pulled away to place a soft kiss in the hollow where her jugular vein ran, across the beat of her speeding pulse, and said, "I wish we were alone right now."

She felt the heat burn through her whole body and her breath got stuck in her throat as she tried not to think of the feel of Max's hand against her bare skin. Her answer was surprisingly even as she whispered, "Me too."

She proceeded to turn in his arms and came face to face with him. He tangled her legs with his and started to lightly and slowly skim his fingers into the dip of her waist, up to the side of her ribcage and back down again to her waist. Back and forth, slowly and enticing.

She looked up into those brown eyes with the long dark lashes and dropped her eyes to the sensual bend of his upper lip. She slowly licked her lips, unconsciously pressing her lower body up against his.

"But we're not," she said in a hushed voice.

His eyes moved slowly to her lips, his pupils large and black in the dim light of the moving van. "I miss you."

A smile fluttered at the corner of her mouth. "I'm right here."

His hand moved from the dip of her waist, around her back, over her shoulder blades, and with a firm pressure he encouraged her upper body closer to his.

"You know what I mean," he said softly, before he brushed his lips against hers.

She inhaled sharply at the feel of him, of the increasing purposefulness of his kiss. His lips softly encased her bottom lip, before pulling back, leaving her panting (and he had barely kissed her).

"I can feel you in my mind every second of every day," he whispered, his lips grazing hers intermittently. "Even more so since we…"

"Made love," she filled in and a shudder of longing momentarily tilted her perspective. How was it possible to long for someone so much? To crave his touch so much that she felt as if she might expire if he didn't touch her, if he didn't kiss her?

He looked into her eyes, his face an inch from hers, and said in a hushed tone, "And to not touch you _every second_ is torture."

She blushed, her breaths heavy and deep. "I know what you mean."

She inhaled sharply as she felt the restraint of her bra give away as his hand unhooked the clasp at the back of her bra. He was looking at her intently, his eyes dark with desire, as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth.

"What were you thinking when I told you I was a virgin?" he asked, not looking away, wanting to see every reaction of her answer.

She blinked at his question, momentarily surprised, before she whispered, "Well, a virgin shouldn't be able to unclasp a bra one-handed like you just did."

He grinned and a different kind of warmth spread through her body, before the playful sensation was interrupted by sharp desire as he moved his hand from its position between her shoulder blades to cup her left breast. She bit down hard on her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut to stop the moan from escaping.

She felt his lips against her upper lip, his thumb brush across her nipple, the weight of her breast fall into the palm of his hand and as her teeth let go of her bottom lip, he claimed it with his, the pressure against her breast increasing as he kissed her - thoroughly. Her hands moved to his jawline, traveling across his ears and burrowing into his thick hair. Her moans were drunk by his mouth, her tremors were captured by his body.

"Were you disappointed?" he breathed, pulling back. They were both breathless and her lips felt fuller - bruised - as she stared at him.

"What?" she asked, unable to get her thoughts in line. Her whole body was screaming to be touched, her whole body was screaming to touch his. She couldn't think. Couldn't concentrate.

"Were you disappointed that I was a virgin?" His question, and the honesty in his gaze, cooled her desire and she managed to collect herself somewhat.

"No," she whispered fervently. Why would he think that? "Of course not."

"I could feel your disappointment," he said and his eyes were suddenly hooded.

"It was about me," Liz answered softly. "I was disappointed in me."

He frowned, a beautiful crinkle between his eyes. "Why?"

"Because I hadn't waited. Because I didn't wait for you. Because I assumed that you had done it before. Because of that, maybe I wasn't careful enough - not in tune with your feelings."

"Oh God," he breathed, his eyes intense as they seemed to swallow her face. She felt the thrills of desire rush through their connection, let them rush down her body and fuel her senses. "You were very much in tune with my feelings, Ms. Parker."

The pads of her fingers pressed against his scalp as the heat tightened in her stomach.

"Don't be disappointed that you didn't wait. You had a life before me. That's important to me."

She felt confused. "It is?"

He brushed his index finger down the curve of her breast and her eyes drifted closed. "Yes. I needed you to have a normal life before me. I didn't want you to choose me before you had tried the alternative."

She swallowed back a laugh and opened her eyes to look at him. He was now the hesitant one, the confused one. She calmed his hesitation at her reaction with a, "Oh, you are so beating the alternative."

He smiled at her softly, "I'm glad," before claiming her mouth again, his hand leaving her breast, sliding down her stomach and his fingertips creeping under the upper edge of her jeans, underneath the upper edge of her panties.

She pulled back, gasping for air, her body acutely focused on where his hand was going. "We can't. We can't."

The words were forced out of her. She really didn't want to say them. She really wanted him to continue. She really really did. But she could see from the realization dawning in his eyes that he had let himself go along with the emotion and, again, forgotten where they were.

"I know," he said, closing his eyes in disappointment, before he pulled his hand back to her waist. "I know."

She looked at the back of his eyelids with the taste of his mouth still on her lips and started worrying her bottom lip. "So," she murmured, which had him opening his eyes and meeting hers. "There's no chance in hell I'll be able to sleep _now_."

That pulled a laugh out of him and his eyes widened in an expression of 'Oops!' before she clasped her hand over his mouth to stop the sound from waking everyone.

They held completely still as Maria turned in her sleep with a soft sigh, just four feet away from them, before silence lowered itself around them again.

They waited another twenty-four seconds before Max said, "Are you worried about him? Alex?"

Liz's body heat was approaching semi-normal as Max kept his hand still against her waist. His question brought her mind as far away from making love to Max as it could possibly get. "Yes." She felt the worry from before gnaw its way back into her mind. "A lot."

"He's in love with you," Max whispered evenly.

Liz searched his face, worried about his reaction, but Max didn't seem bothered, just curious about her answer. So she relaxed and nodded, stating the obvious, "You felt when he kissed me."

Max gave her a weak smile. "Not the most pleasant thing I could get through our connection, but yes."

"He was probably just testing the waters-"

"Using everything he could to get you to come with him," Max filled in.

Liz winced and looked away. "You make him sound like a desperate man with some ugly tricks up his sleeve."

"That's not what I meant-"

"I know," Liz said quietly and looked at her hands, fiddling with the hem to the neck of his T-shirt. "I've always suspected he had feelings for me - more feelings than I could reciprocate. But he's never acted on it; always given me space."

"Being a gentleman," Max whispered softly.

Liz looked up at him and nodded slightly. "Yeah. You could say that. He is a gentleman; Alex. He really is a good guy."

"I don't doubt it," Max answered. "He put all this effort into finding you. It couldn't have been easy. Which tells me that his love for you is real. He's even sacrificing his own safety to ride along with a possibly dangerous group of criminals, just to make sure that you're safe."

Liz felt a stab of regret, of shame. What had she gotten Alex into?

"Don't," Max whispered, reading her face. "He's a grown man. He makes his own decisions. He wanted to come. He wants to save you. So let him."

She looked up at him, nervously. "How long should we let him tag along? We're going to the airport, Max. We're leaving the country."

"I guess he should decide that," Max replied.

"What about Michael?"

Max's eyes darkened with irritation. "Michael's already made up his mind anyway. As long as he gets on that plane, he'll be happy."

"You sure?" Liz felt the concern strike her heart. "What if he attacks Alex the way he did you?"

"He won't," Max replied.

"How do you know?" Liz whispered in angst.

Max's hand tightened against the skin of her waist and there was a protective fierceness in his voice as he replied, "I won't let him."


	59. Chapter 58

_brokenbride - Thank you :D_

**CHAPTER 58**  
_Melissa_

It was hard not to interfere too much. Her instinct was telling her to obey what Max said. She had been raised to answer to her king.

And until just a couple of days ago, he had still been the king.

But at the same time, he was nothing more than a young adult. A human young adult.

He was confused, unsure of his spot as a leader, and he made weird decisions. He kept information from the individuals around him that were the best equipped at helping him. He made choices that affected and jeopardized the safety of the whole group. This was especially clear when it came to the matter of Elizabeth Parker.

Elizabeth Parker was Max's blind spot. He would evidently go through hell and high water to make sure that she was safe, that she was okay.

Apparently, this protection now also encompassed Elizabeth's friends.

Melissa sighed to herself as her hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. Max couldn't see that he was driving the group towards its own demise. Quite possibly, if she hadn't come and rescued them, they would right now be tortured by the Special Unit of the FBI.

If it hadn't been for her, Max's first mistake - of saving Liz Parker and drawing suspicion upon himself - would have killed them all. And there would be no royals to bring back to Antar.

She felt the stab of sorrow at the thought of her planet, of the Antarians who had been killed off along the death of their home. She had to admit that there were more terrible places to be stuck on. Earth was a relatively pleasant planet. Of course, humans were constantly at war with each other, some wars bigger and uglier than others. But such had been the case even on Antar. At least, humans had simplified the governing of their planet by dividing it into countries and assigning a ruler to each country. That way, if worse came to worst, one could always move to another country if one disagreed with the government or the laws of a country.

There had been one ruler on Antar. _Zan_. And the people that didn't agree with the politics enforced by his father and later by him, had nowhere to go. They were like the disgruntled employees at a workplace they hated. The risk of arguments and backstabbing was higher when the choices were taken away.

In that way, humans were much smarter.

She knew that her resurrected Royal Four were intelligent, with advanced abilities and excellent leadership qualities. But she was getting fed up with waiting for them to grow up, of finding themselves. She had watched them grow into the people they were today, but she was starting to regret that she hadn't gone against her pre-set orders and actually started to educate and train them sooner.

If they had known about their roles in the universe maybe they would have gone about things differently? Maybe Max would discuss things with Michael, Isabel and Tess before reaching a decision. Maybe Michael would be able to control his emotions. Maybe Isabel would be more assertive in herself and her position as the princess.

Instead they had gotten themselves into a terrible mess. She could only hope that the FBI wasn't watching the airport. Of course, the chance of that happening was minimal. Of course they would be surveilling all possible exits out of the country.

But push come to shove, their mixed group of aliens and humans had something the FBI lacked.

Inhuman abilities.

* * *

_Alex_

So. They hadn't tried to convert him yet. They hadn't tried to fill his brain with weird pieces of information. The group had been almost unnervingly quiet. He had troubles understanding what Liz found so appealing about the group. They were a bunch of odd characters sorely lacking in social capabilities.

"Hey," a soft voice said next to him and he watched as Liz took a seat next to him.

"Hey," he replied, looking at her profile.

They hadn't talked much since they had met at the convenience store. Max had come and got him out of his car when they had, apparently, decided that it was okay for him to come along. And that had been it. Alex had stepped into the empty inside of a white van, shy of a few blankets, and had spent a night on the hard flooring. He had, what felt like, bruises all over his body to prove it.

He was glad that Liz had come over to talk to him. She looked like herself again; back to being a brunette (Alex had briefly wondered before where the people were hiding their disguises. There were no boxes with wigs or contacts anywhere. And there was no possible way that any of them had had time or opportunity to dye their hair) and she looked oddly rested (even though he had heard her and Max whispering in the middle of the night. He had tried really hard to eavesdrop, but their voices had been too hushed, too secret, for him to hear anything.).

"How are you holding up?" she asked softly, her chocolate brown eyes searching his profile wearily.

He shrugged. "Considering the circumstances; okay."

She gave a nod and turned her gaze forward. "Good."

"Not the most talkative bunch of people, are they?" Alex asked.

A small smile graced her mouth and she answered quietly, "No. You could say that."

"I can't really see what you all would have in common," Alex mused, itching to get answers from her and get her to see his side of the situation. It was time for her to wake up and smell the reality.

"No, we're pretty different," Liz agreed lightly, the smile still on her lips. "But I guess it's more destiny having brought these people together than compatibility."

"So why stay? If you're not even close-"

She turned her eyes back to him, something akin to insult in her look, "We're close."

"Liz…" he shook his head, not believing her, "You barely look at each other. There's no laughter or friendly conversations."

"We're under a lot of stress," Liz replied, her mouth pressed into a thin line. "If you haven't noticed; we're on the run."

"I just want you to reconsider who you're giving up your life for," Alex tried.

"We're leaving the country," Liz said quickly and Alex froze. He stared at her until he thought his eyes would dry out. She wouldn't meet his eyes. Instead she was staring at her fingernails.

"Where?" he whispered.

"I shouldn't say," Liz answered. "In case you won't be with us at that time."

He took a deep breath, anxiety drumming in his chest. "It's a bit drastic, don't you think?"

"It's the only option if we want to stay alive. We wouldn't be able to lead a normal life here any longer. The FBI won't give up. But they might stop looking for us if we're on another continent."

"Of course, you can come with us if you want," a voice said from above their heads and Alex looked up to see exquisite Isabel looking down on him.

"And why would I want that?" Alex asked, trying his best to look away, but failing miserably.

Isabel sank to the floor opposite him, her knees almost touching his as she folded her legs across each other, Indian style.

"You don't believe us, do you?" she asked, her brown eyes digging into his.

Alex bit his lips together and answered tightly, "Not a word."

"What is our agenda then, Alex?" she continued, curiosity draped across her delicate features.

Alex met her look straight on. "To make my friend here believe that she is part of an alien cult, so that you can whisk her away and make her stay with you-"

"And force her to have a lot of babies with Max over there so that our cult could grow bigger and bigger?" Isabel filled in, amused.

"Something like that," Alex admitted.

"Why her? Why Elizabeth Parker?"

"You tell me."

"Because she's gorgeous? Because she has an IQ that falls in the 'gifted' category? Because she's independent, strong and of good breeding age?"

Alex glanced at Liz and noticed the blush on her cheeks. He wondered if she was ashamed or felt complimented.

"Maybe all of the above," Alex answered.

"Uh-huh," Isabel said and contemplatively tapped her index finger against her full bottom lip. "What if Elizabeth Parker happened to be part of our group because of circumstance? Or maybe even, because of fate?"

"No such thing," Alex refuted plainly.

"What if…" Isabel said slowly, "she was killed in an accident, where the car that my brother and I were in with our parents happened to be the car arriving first at the scene where she was lying dead?"

Alex could almost feel Liz grow still as a statue next to him.

"She's not dead," he said, but immediately damned his voice for cracking with uncertainty. "She's right here."

"Exactly," Isabel announced, almost triumphantly. "She's here because my brother saw a girl on the road that night and thought she was asleep. She's here because my brother put his hands on her and willed her to wake up. She's here because he poured his energy into her and restarted her heart."

"Isabel," Liz whispered, but Isabel continued.

"And then for years, my brother had these dreams of a brown-haired girl. Of your Liz. He dreamt that she was calling for him, trying to talk to him-"

"What?" Liz gasped next to Alex and Alex glanced at her briefly before Isabel recaptured his attention.

"Until one day, when he was a teenager, and the dreams stopped. You see, he didn't try to search her out. He didn't know that the girl from his dreams was for real. He certainly didn't know that it was actually the grown-up version of the girl he had brought back from the dead that was haunting his dreams."

"He dreamt of me?" Liz whispered.

"In a way, _Liz_ sought Max out," Isabel said, ignoring Liz's questions. "Not the other way around."

"There's no such thing as bringing someone back from the dead with your bare hands," Alex said coldly. He didn't like being lied to so plainly, so transparently. "Especially not by a boy."

How could Liz fall for this load of crap?

"What about the fact that Max could see that someone would attack Liz in a dark alley - weeks before it actually happened?"

"Well," Alex said dryly. "Maybe he knew because he was in on it. Maybe you guys staged the whole thing with that David Perkins-character."

"Alex," Liz said next to him and the hurt and disbelief in her voice made him temporarily hate himself for putting it that way. Of course, it had been a horrible ordeal for her and he didn't mean to diminish it, but if this group had anything to do with hurting his Liz, they should pay for it.

Isabel leaned forward slowly and Alex ignored the temptation to lean away. Her face was only two inches from his, when she whispered, "I can see your dreams when you're asleep. If I want to, I could make sure that your every sleep will be plagued by nightmares - for the rest of your life."

"Iz, what are you doing?"

Isabel leaned back and a beautiful smiles spread across her lips as she did. Alex blinked. His reactions were numb.

Max was standing behind Isabel, looking at her disapprovingly. Isabel looked up at him sweetly. "Nothing. Just trying to convince a skeptic."

"There are easier way to do that," Max said and pulled out a knife from his back pocket.

Alex straightened, Liz's sharp intake of air next to him chilled him to the core. She wasn't prepared for Max bringing weapons into the discussion either.

"Max, what are you doing?" Liz asked, a frantic edge to her voice, as she stumbled to her feet.

"It's okay," Max said to her softly, before he put the sharp edge of the blade against his skin and slid it across and into the skin of his underarm.

"_Max!"_ Liz cried, automatically pushing the knife away and pressing her hand against the blood that was flowing up from the wound.

Alex looked on, perplexed. He noted two things; 1) Max was insane, and 2) If he was an alien, how come his blood looked perfectly red and human?

"It's okay, Liz," Max gave Liz a look and she pulled her hands back. Alex looked at her bloodied hand with trepidation as Max kneeled in front of him.

"Can you see that I'm injured?" Max asked.

Alex frowned. Eh…Duh? He answered, "Hard to miss."

"Do you see the edges of the wound, the muscle tissue underneath?" Max insisted and Alex tried to tell from Max's face if he was being serious or if he was going to break out into a madhouse dance any time soon. He willed himself to briefly look at the sliced skin, at the visible muscle layer beneath all that blood. So much blood. He swallowed back the nausea. It was a deep cut.

"You better put some pressure on that," he said thickly.

"I will," Max answered and put his palm across the wound, covering it up.

Alex looked over at Liz, at the blood that was drying on her small hands which she was stiffly holding out in front of her.

_I'm gonna get you out of here, Lizzie. I promise you that._

He looked back at Max, who was stubbornly remaining in his seat in front of Alex, just in time to catch the bright white light being emitted between the surface of his palm and the surface of his injured skin.

His eyes widened as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. What the hell was that? How did he do that? Was he holding a flashlight somewhere? He was just about to incline his head to try and see it from another angle, when Max removed his hand.

"Iz, could you get me something to clean this up?" Max asked his sister as Alex stared at Max's arm.

_It couldn't be._

There was nothing there. A lot of blood still, now coagulating and drying, but no wound. Max's skin was perfectly intact. Max took the paper towel offered by Isabel and wiped it down his arm, proving more fully that there was nothing there. No wound to speak of.

"Now… Still think we're a baby-producing cult?" Isabel asked as Alex leaned back against the metallic wall, his mouth hanging open and his brain running on overload as his whole world and all the principles he lived by had suddenly been thrown out the window.


	60. Chapter 59

_brokenbride - And Alex will become even less of a sceptic in the following chapter... Thank you for the feedback!_

**CHAPTER 59**  
_Alex_

"Quite the magic trick, huh?" Liz said with attempted lightness, even though her worried eyes on his face revealed what she was really feeling after Max's bloody display.

Alex looked down at her hands, colored in red just a couple of minutes ago, and wondered if the blood was still there. If Isabel waving her hand over Liz's palms had really _washed_ Liz's hands or just made the blood invisible. He swallowed against the impending nausea and forced his eyes back to Liz's face. She was pale, her eyes guarded as she searched his face.

"Yeah," he managed to whisper, mostly to throw her a bone because she looked as bad as he felt.

"Only it's not magic," Liz added slowly.

"How-" Alex wetted his lips. "How are they doing that? How is it possible?"

Being two intellectuals, Alex and Liz were always concerned with the 'how' and 'why'. They needed facts, details, and were prepared to take things apart to see how they worked. But he couldn't very well take Max apart. Or Isabel.

A chill rushed through him, startling him with its abruptness, as he realized that maybe that was exactly what the FBI was aiming to do.

_Take them apart._

"Their souls - their alien essence - were placed inside brain-dead human children. Children who were taken off life-support and were not going to survive." Liz's dark eyes looked up at him, still searching for answers - for approval - on his face. "So their bodies are human, but their alien essence rewires their brains differently. Enables them to have special abilities."

_Magic,_ Alex thought grimly.

He got the mental image of federal agents digging into Isabel's brain and he shuddered. But the mystery still remained, "Why are the FBI after _you?_ I can see now why they would want to capture and 'investigate' the aliens further, but why you? You're human."

"Because I might have answers. I think-" she paused to distractedly chew on her bottom lip, "I think they're afraid of Max and the rest. They only have suspicions, theories, but they are not really sure if Max would annihilate them upon capture. I was an easier and safer target."

She paused, before starting to turn around in her seated position on the floor. "Let me show you something." Her back was turned towards him and he watched her pull her shirt up to the middle of her shoulder blades.

Alex felt the blood leave his face.

The writing was faint, as if it had been scrubbed and scrubbed in a frustrated effort of removal, but the permanent marker still disfigured her pale skin.

WE KNOW EVERYTHING NOW.  
DON'T TRY AND RUN.  
WE'LL FIND YOU.

"A reminder from the FBI," Liz whispered as he read the handwritten capitals.

He felt cold all over as Liz let her shirt fall back down to cover the words and turned around to face him again.

"What happened? What you mentioned at that gas station… You being kidnapped and…drugged?"

Liz nodded. "They did. They kidnapped me and gave me some truth serum-"

He shook his head. "No, there's no such thing."

"I guess there is."

"So you told them everything you know - about the…aliens?" The word 'alien' felt ridiculously foreign in his mouth.

"I don't know," Liz whispered, dropping her eyes as if ashamed. "I can't remember what happened or what they asked me."

"They gave you something to forget?" Alex said, more like an obvious statement than a question.

"According to the vision, it was a component of the truth ser-"

Alex held up a hand to interrupt her. "Wait. Wait. What? _Vision?"_

"That's why we left Boston. Max had premonitions of me being captured by the FBI and being given a truth serum. I saw the vision myself - in a dream."

"And how is that possible - for you to see it too?" Alex head was spinning. The more he found out, the more complicated it seemed to get.

"It's probably because of the connection between Max and I," Liz answered.

"The connection?" Alex said slowly in wondrous disbelief, but he vaguely remembered Liz mentioned something like that at the gas station. How Max had been able to sense that Liz's life had been in danger - because of the connection.

"Apparently, when Max heals someone, he has to form a connection to them - a bond - so that he can gain access to their bodies and see what's wrong, so that he can fix it. We don't know for sure, but we think that the connection between Max and I was made stronger because Max was actually bringing me back from the dead. So strong that it was never completely severed when he was done."

Alex frowned and supported his forearms against his knees as he leaned forward. "So, this connection. What does it mean really? That you share each others thoughts?"

"Feelings, mostly," Liz answered and a beautiful blush spread across her cheeks, which tempted Alex to blush as well. He got the instant feeling that the topic had suddenly turned very private and intimate.

"But no thoughts," Liz continued, avoiding his eyes. "And I can feel when he is near. It's like a buzzing in my body - like a hum - that fades when he is far away and is turned up when he's close."

"That's…" Alex was at a loss of words. "That's…" That's what? He frowned and made a third attempt. "That's interesting."

"Melissa doesn't really understand it either," Liz said and looked up at him. "I guess it's a bit unusual."

"Uh-huh," Alex looked over at the driver. _Melissa._ She hadn't really been interacting with the group so far; hadn't asked him any questions or tried to convince him of anything. During his time here, she had mostly given him angry looks and driven the van. She had been like a female version of Michael, the grumpy boyfriend of Maria (who apparently was human as well).

Liz, noticing his glance at Melissa, added, "Melissa is their protector and advisor. She was sent here to guard them and prepare them for their return."

Alex looked back at his longtime friend. "So, they _are_ supposed to go back to where they came from?"

"No," Liz shook her head. "Not anymore. Their planet was destroyed recently."

"So they're stranded here," Alex stated. "Like E.T."

"Something like that," Liz said and a small smile crept onto her lips at his movie reference.

"So there's no risk that you're leaving Earth with them then?"

She gave a short laugh. "Of course not. Just the continent."

He exhaled with relief. "Good. Good."

"Speaking of that," Max stepped up to them. Alex got the feeling that Max had been eavesdropping. Not impossible, he guessed, in a small van.

"We're almost at the airport," Max continued. "We need to get ready."

_Already?_ Alex thought and felt panic grip him. That meant that he had a big decision to make. To go with Liz or let her leave the country with a group of aliens.

Max kneeled next to Liz and her eyes moved to him like magnets. Alex watched Max gently cradle Liz's face between his hands and he addressed her in that voice that he seemed to reserve only for her. "What do you want to be today?"

She smiled, staring up at him as if he was her savior. Alex swallowed at the intimacy of that look and briefly wondered if a girl would ever look at him like that.

"Burgundy," Liz replied.

"Okay," Max agreed and with Alex's eyes transfixed on them, Max moved his hands from Liz's face to thread through her long dark brown hair. Under his watchful eyes, Alex noticed how Liz's hair turned darker, as if someone was sprinkling it with a purplish hue, trailing in the wake of Max's hands.

_He's changing her hair color,_ Alex thought and suddenly understood why there were no wigs in the van. They all had their own hair, just having dyed it with…_magic._

"I can do yours if you want," Isabel's voice ripped him out from under the spell of watching Max changing Liz's physical identity.

He looked up at Isabel, at her short and black hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her appearance was so startlingly different that he actually jumped.

"Don't worry, it's just me," Isabel said with an amused expression, a twinkle in her dark blue eyes.

"Um… You mean, change my hair?" Alex stammered.

"And your eye color, perhaps?" Isabel mused and sank down to her knees in front of him.

"I can just buy some dye instead," Alex tried, not really liking the whole prospect of them using their abilities on him. What if they did something wrong and he ended up with two noses instead of one or they accidentally turned him into a cyclops?

She put her head to the side and regarded him, like a mother would a child. "Then we would need water and time. We have neither."

"But I'm not on the 'Most Wanted'-list," he tried, his voice wavering with nervousness. "I don't have to be disguised."

"If everything goes according to plan, we won't be visible at all," Isabel said and he felt his mouth go dry.

_What did that mean?_

"But we can't risk it," Isabel continued, as if she had just announced that it might rain today, "Besides, you have a connection to Liz. Maybe the feds have photos of everyone we've ever made contact with during our lifetimes."

She reached her hand out towards his face and he jumped as her hand connected with his temple.

"Relax," she said softly and there was kindness in her eyes. "It won't hurt. You won't feel a thing."

He swallowed and willed himself to relax. She waited for him, until he exhaled deeply, the strain disappearing from his shoulders, before she placed her fingers back on his temple. He felt a flutter move through his stomach and all heat in his body seemed to travel to that single point of contact between him and her.

With the sensation of a pleasurable, bordering on painful, burning at the touch of her finger against his temple his eyes remained locked with hers the short seconds it took to change his dark brown hair into strawberry blonde. He tried to figure out if he liked her new eye color better than her own, but he quickly decided that it didn't matter.

She was gorgeous either way.

"I kinda like your eye color," Isabel said softly, holding his eyes. "They're not really green, but not blue either. And sometimes they look brown."

"I guess you're not the only one that can change eye colors," Alex said.

She smiled and Alex's heart missed a beat. "I think you might be right." She bit the edge of her lower lip in thought, before saying, "I think we'll leave your eyes the way they are. They complement your new hairstyle."

"My new-?" Alex reached up to his head and realized that his hair was no longer short, but reached his shoulders. "You made my hair _longer?"_

Isabel shrugged and pulled back, letting her hand fall away. Alex could still feel the heat from where her index finger had pressed against his skin.

"I thought it would suit you. I like guys with long hair."

He felt himself blush and immediately cursed himself as he bent his head to hide the redness. He could feel Isabel's somewhat curious eyes on him and he was hyperaware of the faint flowery smell around her.

"It suits you." Liz's voice made him look up and come face to face with a short-haired Liz, a nuance of burgundy enhancing subtle voluminous curls.

She looked like a movie star. Max hadn't changed her eyes either. Alex wondered if they didn't dare to do that change to humans or if they just didn't find it necessary. Max hadn't changed his appearance yet and he was holding Liz's hand while he was talking quietly to Melissa in the front seat.

"You don't look so bad either," Alex returned.

"Glad you liked it," Isabel said in reference to Liz's compliment of her work and got to her feet.

"So," Max said and returned his attention to Liz and Alex. "The plan is; Tess will mind warp security personnel and potential agents at the airport, hiding us in plain sight."

"Hiding us?" Alex wondered at the same time as Isabel asked, "Like a cloaking device?"

"Yes," Max nodded.

"What's a mind warp?" Alex asked.

He had heard that phrase before. It was what had been suggested by Isabel to be done to him to stop him from telling on them. The thing that Max had vehemently protested, even though he hadn't known Alex personally. It couldn't be a very nice thing, that mind warp.

"That's my speciality," the short blonde girl with the doll-like curls said from the corner.

Everyone looked over at the girl and Alex was pretty sure that was the first time she had spoken in the 17 hours Alex had been in their company. Her light blue eyes were digging into him and he felt an instant chill rush through him. The small smirk playing on her lips cemented to him that Tess was the epitome of what he would consider to be an alien. There was an aloofness about her, a foreign air of coldness, and an almost regal look in her eye, regarding him as an ant that needed to be crushed.

He was about to turn his head away, because her gaze was making him very uncomfortable, when the van reached a sudden stop and she jumped to her feet - alert fear in her ice cold eyes.

"Why are we stopping?" Alex whispered and his eyes flickered between the members of the group surrounding him. They all looked worried and scared, Max turning to the front to look out the windshield.

Then the side door was ripped open and men in dark suits with bulletproofed vests raised black guns towards them. Without a word, without a shout of warning or order for them to give up or get on the ground, one of the men fired two shots.

Alex heard Max roar a "_Nooo,_" as he flung himself in the direction of Liz. But it was too late. Liz had been propelled backwards, onto her back, and there was blood seeping from her abdomen and from a wound in her chest.

"_Liiiz,_" was ripped out of Alex as he crawled towards her body, not caring that the agents were quickly entering the van, not caring that he might soon be dead too.

And just as quickly, the scene snapped back to before. Before the van had stopped. He found himself staring into Liz's wide, horrified and confused eyes, as his hands were attached to her stomach - her intact stomach.

"Alex?" she whispered.

"You…" he gasped, and looked up at the others. They were staring at him as if he was a lunatic, with caution and unsure what to do next. He looked at Tess and saw that smirk having exploded into a grin.

"_That_ was a mind warp."

He stilled and could do nothing but stare at the Barbie look-alike.

"You mind warped him?" Liz hissed, anger blazing through her voice.

"He wondered what a mind warp was; best way was to show him," Tess shrugged.

"What did you make him see?" Max asked and Alex noted the concealed anger in his voice. Max was not very happy with Tess.

"We were stopped and attacked by the feds. Liz got shot."

Alex imagined he could read satisfaction on her face at that last statement. Something told him that Tess was not a very big fan of Liz. And acting out Liz's death, plus sharing it with Liz's friend, gave her a cruel enjoyment.

"You're sick," Liz said vehemently and took Alex's cold hand between the both of hers. Her eyes were concerned and frightened as she looked at him. "Are you okay?"

"It was so real," Alex answered, slightly astonished. That Tess character had actually got into his mind, without touching him - not even standing particularly close - and had changed what he was seeing.

"She's good at what she does," Max said, his voice as sharp as acid.

Tess crossed her arms over her well-developed chest and pouted, "Do you want my help or not?"

Alex could understand why Tess' 'help' in this situation was invaluable, but he could also read out the tension in the group dynamic. Who was this Tess to the group? She felt like more of an outsider than he was.

"We need you," Isabel said softly. "Of course we need you. But maybe, next time, you could explain these things instead of shocking your unsuspecting victims."

"There won't be a next time, remember?" Tess answered bitterly. "Getting you out of the country will be my last 'assignment'."

"Sure," Isabel said quietly. "Of course."

Alex could sense sadness from the Amazon beauty and wondered idly if Isabel had a stronger connection to Tess than the rest of the group.

"Anyway," Michael grumbled from the other side of the van. He had made himself African American and looked nothing like his previous unruly self. But his voice was just as caucasian as before. "We go in there, book our tickets, and Tess mind warps the shit out of all assholes in there while we get to our gate."

"We should be visible for the boarding," Max interjected.

"Yeah," Maria agreed. "We need to register for our seats on the plane."

"And just disappear when we're inside the gate, alright?" Michael continued. "And reappear when we are boarding?"

"What about you?" Maria said, looking at Alex.

Alex hesitated. He felt Liz's big eyes on him and he knew that this was it. This was the point at which he threw his life away or put his trust in Liz's ability to be a good people knower.

"I'm gonna stay," he said quietly.

There was a moment of silence, before Michael struck his hands together. "Great, the less the merrier."

Liz's hand squeezed Alex and haltingly he met her eyes.

"Are you sure?" she asked and Alex tried to decipher the look on her face. Did she want him to come along or to stay? She hadn't wanted him to come with her outside of Whitehorse, but maybe she had changed her mind.

But he could see now that she was going to be safe. That she was going to be protected far beyond what he could offer. He could see it in the way Max Evans was looking at her and how he treated her. The only person Alex didn't want to have in close proximity to Liz was Tess - and maybe Melissa (but he didn't really know her) - but as he had understood it, Tess was leaving. It probably wasn't the right time for him to uproot his whole existence and leave his family behind.

This was Liz's life, Liz's decision.

"I'm sure," he answered her softly, but with conviction.

She put her arms around him then, pulling him against her body and hugged him tightly. "Thank you for looking out for me."

"Promise me that you'll be careful," Alex whispered into the sharp tips of her suddenly shortened hair.

"I will," she replied.

"We're here," Melissa announced from the front and Alex felt Liz tense in his arms.

Liz pulled back and looked at him with vulnerability. "Will you come with me inside?"

"I'll follow you as far as I can," Alex promised and Liz smiled.

_I'm going to miss that smile,_ Alex thought sadly.


	61. Chapter 60

**CHAPTER 60**  
_Special Agent Joel Martin  
Four weeks later_

It had been their only sign of aliens since 1947.

And now they were gone.

If they had only picked up those bloody aliens at the motel when they abducted Elizabeth Parker - as he had suggested - everything would be right as rain right about now.

Instead, they were in a crisis meeting, assistant directors shouting at each other, frightened secretaries trying to calm everyone down by offering coffee and baked goods. Fists were being slammed into the table surface, chairs were scraped backwards as yet another person yelled out a frustrated protest and papers swirled occasionally through the air. One could presume one was watching a rerun episode of 'The Office' rather than the real life meeting of dignitary agents.

It had been five weeks since he'd had Elizabeth Parker restrained in a metal chair and squeezed information out of her. Only a couple of hours after Elizabeth Parker had been returned to her 'friends', the FBI had hunted the aliens at West Edmonton Mall - where the aliens had vanished without a trace.

They had been sure that the aliens would try to leave North America and that they would need to get to an airport to do so. But all the airports had been watched, since even before the questioning of Elizabeth Parker, and they hadn't turned anything up.

The aliens were gone.

Probably still hiding in North America. Because there was no way that they had managed to board a flight with the number of agents watching the international airports or their photos coming up as red flags at passport checks.

They had to still be in North America.

* * *

_Alex  
2 months past the aliens' departure from North America_

Alex took the letter out of his mailbox and immediately recognized the handwriting. Putting the letter between his lips, he pushed the mailbox closed, locked it and unlocked the door to his apartment. He quickly locked the door behind him and put his finger inside the corner of the envelope, ripping it open.

_Dearest friend,_

_I hope this letter finds you okay and that you got back to Boston alright. By now, you've had plenty of time to think about everything that happened and I hope that it hasn't made you regret your decision to let me go. I can tell you now, that it was the right choice._

_I'm great. I'm happy. I feel safe and have stopped looking over my shoulder. X and I got an apartment, just two blocks down from M&amp;M's place. They're gonna have a baby soon. I don't think I told you when we met last (everything was so crazy then). We're all really looking forward to this child. I guess we're all sort of hoping that it will bring us a fresh start, bring normalcy and happiness into our lives._

_She misses you (I think you know who I mean). It took her a week or two before she realized that she really liked you, that she had basically fallen for you the second she saw you. So… if you're feeling lonely, there's a woman here that wouldn't mind easing that loneliness._

_It's still too dangerous for me to write of our location. I will figure out a way to get it to you. Would you please tell my dad that I'm okay, that I'll contact him as soon as I can? I think they are keeping a close eye on his correspondence still, so I can't risk it right now._

_I miss you. So much._

_Love,_

_L_

* * *

_Liz  
6 months past the aliens' departure from North America_

Liz sat up straight in bed, the covers bundling up around her waist, her naked chest moving briskly up and down as she struggled for a normal breathing rhythm.

"Liz?"

His hand fumbled for the switch to the bedside lamp in the darkness of the night.

"I'm okay," she whispered, breathless, and threaded shaking hands through her hair, feeling the cold sweat on her forehead.

The light flicked on and his arms were around her waist, pulling her against his bare warm chest, his lips against her forehead as his hand came up to settle in her hair, encouraging her head against the comfort of his chest.

"You're not," he refuted quietly, concern rippling through their connection.

She knew that she couldn't hide it from him, that even without their connection he would know that something was amiss.

But habits were hard to break. It was so much easier to just stick to 'I'm fine'. She didn't like to worry him.

"It was just a nightmare," she whispered, squeezing her eyes tightly shut and trying to dispel the images of the white room, of the restraints, of the syringes and needles.

"About Aislin?" Max breathed into her hair.

"About the white room," Liz answered.

Max stilled beside her and she automatically held her breath, awaiting his reaction.

"That's new," he whispered, and there was a hint of fear that he was trying to keep out of his voice.

His hand brushed down her bare back, tracing the curve of her spine - leaving goosebumps of pleasure in its wake. She pressed against him harder, seeking warmth and security.

"I think my memory is coming back," she said.

He sighed and kissed her temple. She could feel the self-blame reverberate through their connection. He was beating himself up, still seeing it as his fault that she had been taken.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"You were not the one restraining me to a metal chair and drugging me," Liz objected, feeling her body tightening with anger. Not at him, but for the unfairness of their past, for not being able to completely escape what those monsters had done to them.

"_He thinks he's from another planet, but he doesn't know for sure. He doesn't know anything about his past. He woke up in a cave, as a four-year-old, together with his sister."_

_"Isabel Evans?"_

_"Yes. She has abilities too."_

_"She's alien?"_

_"She believes so."_

_"What can she do? What are her abilities?"_

_"I don't know. I don't know."_

_"Are there any more like Max and Isabel?"_

_"Michael. Their friend: Michael. And Tess. Can't remember her last name."_

_"Michael Guerin and Theresa Harding?"_

_"Yes."_

_"What are their abilities?"_

_"I don't know what Michael can do. But Tess… She can make you see things that aren't real."_

_"What does that mean?"_

_"She invades your mind and projects images in your head. If she wants you to think that you're in a jungle, you will."_

_"Ms. Parker. What is their agenda? What do they want from us?"_

_"Nothing. Nothing."_

"Liz?" Max's voice brought her back from her dream, from the memory.

"I told him everything," she whispered and her voice broke. Her nails dug into the skin of his chest as she repeated, "Everything."

"Baby, we already suspected as much," Max whispered and captured her hands with his, pulling them away from his chest and bringing them up to his lips, kissing the center of her knuckles on both hands. "You were given a truth serum. You had no choice in the matter."

"I could've fought harder," Liz said regretfully.

"They didn't catch us," Max emphasized. "They didn't win. It doesn't matter what they know; they lost."

"They're still out there," Liz whispered.

"They always will be," Max answered and Liz was once again reminded of how Max had lived his whole life like this. Expecting to be picked up any day because he encountered the wrong person, was seen in the wrong setting.

She looked up at him in the yellow smooth light of the bedroom lamp and cradled his cheek in her hand. Her thumb brushed gentle over his mouth and her eyes followed the movement longingly before looking up into his brown eyes. The irises were peppered with gold in the dim light and she smiled at him.

"What?" he asked, returning her smile.

"I love you," she said gently, tasting each word. She loved telling him that, ever since she had worked up the nerve to say it to him that first time - 43 days ago.

His eyes darkened, the golden flecks shrinking as his pupils dilated with love and passion. "I love you too."

"I will always love you," Liz whispered as desire curled through their connection and she crawled onto his lap, straddling his waist. She felt his response below her naked body as well as through the bond in her mind.

He leaned in and touched his lips to hers as he brought their, still interlaced, hands to her waist against her back, making her breast arch against him. He moaned against her mouth as he kissed the junction between her upper and bottom lip before trailing heated kisses down her jaw, down her throat.

She brought their connected hands to her front and placed his hands over her breasts, her nipples aching for his touch. As she released his hands at their intended destination, her own hands were free to bury themselves in his hair, tugging on it to bring his wandering mouth back to hers. Her lower body rocked against his as she captured his lips, tasted his tongue and let her hands flutter across the features of his face. Sometimes she had troubles containing what she felt for him; it felt like the love was going to rip her apart at the seams.

_But what a beautiful way to go_, she thought and smiled under the assault of his mouth.

He kissed her smile and slowly lowered them down, her on her back, him adoring her front. He settled between her legs, the friction between their bodies delicious as he moved slightly up her length to place a kiss on her forehead.

He pulled back, his weight resting slightly off her body on his elbows, and locked his eyes with hers. She was trembling all over with restrained want, a familiar ache throbbing at the center of her being and small sweat droplets were already spreading across her skin in anticipation of what was bound to happen next.

"I'm so grateful," he whispered, a tear glistening in the corner of his eye.

"Grateful?" she asked, breathless with need. She didn't want him to stop, didn't want him to waste time on talking.

She was about to open her mouth to say just that when he smiled and elaborated; "I'm so grateful that you were the one to deflower me."

She giggled and lifted herself up on her elbows so that she could press her mouth against his.

So was she. So was she.

Michael Guerin called just five minutes later, according to his impeccable bad timing, and announced that Maria was having contractions and that Max better get his ass over to their apartment right now.


	62. Epilogue

_brokenbride - Your gut feeling is correct; this story has reached its end. Thank you so much for all of your reviews!_

And big thank you to those of you who have been reading and leaving comments;

**Elementalmoon, Proxy-Blue22, r. 92, brokenbride**

* * *

**EPILOGUE**  
_Jeffrey_

He had heard it all.

The story about the man who had saved his daughter, who had ensured that Jeffrey hadn't lost his whole family the day he had lost his wife.

He had heard the story about Maria's cure, of Michael's search for his equals following the newspaper article about Maria's recovery.

He had been informed of Michael, Max, Tess and Isabel's crawl out of a cave in New Mexico post a lengthy incubation time, after their spaceship had crashed there in 1947.

There had been the detail of Melissa's protective role of the youngsters.

He had heard the story of the Royal Four, which had seemed more like a fairytale, and that an Antarian soul by the name of Aislin was now trapped inside his daughter's mind.

He had heard of the true events concerning the assault on his daughter and the true agenda of the law enforcement. He had been, after some coercing, let in on information about Liz's abduction and how the FBI had abused her civil rights only to gain information against - whom they had referred to as - the enemies.

He had seen deep wounds being healed right in front of his eyes, the color of a wall change with the touch of a palm, hair change from curly to straight in the matter of four seconds, had seen furniture levitate off the floor and flower vases explode into a thousand pieces by the direction of an outstretched hand.

He had also seen the looks between his daughter and Max Evans. He had witnessed the gentle touches, how they always seemed to be touching in one way or the other. His heart had warmed at the small kisses when they had forgotten that they weren't alone and his stomach had fluttered with love as his daughter had brushed her hands down the pregnant curve of her abdomen.

Jeffrey Parker had seen a 22 month-old girl with light blonde hair (so light it was almost white) paint without using crayons, using only the tips of her small fingers. He had seen that same gentle girl tidy her room with a flick of her wrist and talk to the cat as if the cat could actually understand what she was saying.

He had only heard about the woman that had been sent to protect the unusual group; Melissa. He had never actually met her. Apparently, Melissa had done something horrible to his daughter Liz. Something that Max couldn't forgive, even after 'giving it some time'. Their former protector lived on the other side of town and was a pertinent member of the secret society of aliens, but her visits to the home of Max and Liz were infrequent and merely focused on status reports and community updates.

Mr. Parker, father of Elizabeth Parker, widower to Nancy Parker, had at a modest age of 56 seen and heard more than most people did in a lifetime.

He'd had his whole belief system rocked at the core, but had happily let it happen.

As a reward, his family had grown from a number of two to a number of nine. With the future birth of his first grandchild, that family total would reach an even 10.

"Mr. Parker? Are you alright?"

Jeffrey looked up at Alex who was standing beside him, a can of beer in his hand. Alex looked very different nowadays. His skin was forever tanned - a result of spending a lot of time surfing off the Australian coasts - and his previously dark-brown hair was now bleached into a warm golden brown by saltwater and sunshine. He had put on some muscle on his formerly lanky body and there was an assurance in the straightness of his posture that hadn't been there before. Jeffrey dared to presume that Alex had finally found his place in the world.

"Yes," Jeffrey smiled. "I'm fine."

He really couldn't complain. He was sitting on the veranda, with the ocean in front of him and the laughter of children playing on the beach floating around him, with his feet propped up on a small stool and sunglasses covering his eyes. The warm spring breeze was brushing through his short-sleeved shirt and ruffling his hair.

"Dinner's ready," a breathless voice said from behind them.

Jeffrey turned to see Isabel looking at them with a windy smile, before she turned and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Jeffrey looked up at Alex's profile, watched the young man follow Isabel's departure with longing. Alex had given up his whole life to come here. To try his luck at winning Isabel's heart. Jeffrey admired Alex for taking that step. It was not easy to give up your whole life for a woman you'd known for a mere 21 hours.

Apparently, taking chances was not just a Hallmark recommendation; it could come true.

Two days after Liz had revealed their location in Australia - through a coded system of clues that had Alex running all over Boston to crack the code - Alex had quit his life in America and boarded a flight to the land Down Under.

Isabel and Alex had been a couple since the moment his feet had touched Australian soil.

"I guess that's our cue," Alex said, slightly dazed, and disappeared in the manner of a hypnotized person into the living room.

Jeffrey laughed to himself, pushed the sunglasses up into his hair and disentangled himself from the lounger.

"Dad, you can sit there," his daughter said with a pointed finger to a seat as soon as he came around the corner.

Reflections of the sun were still dancing in his vision, making Liz shine with more light than usual. He smiled at the vision as he nodded. "Sure."

"Where are the potatoes?" Michael asked, taking a seat next to Jeffrey.

"They were out," Maria replied, before turning to Elise, who was spinning in the center of the living room. "El, don't let your food get cold."

"Out? They didn't have any potatoes?" Michael questioned.

"No," Liz replied, setting a bowl of string beans on the table.

Max came up behind her and with a peck on her cheek and a brush along the curve of his future child, he sank down in the seat next to where she was standing.

"El, listen to your mother!" Michael said sharply.

But Jeffrey had noticed that Michael had a real soft spot for his daughter. In Michael's eyes, little Elise could not do much wrong.

"I'm a dancing pwincess," Elise called.

"Dancing princesses need to eat too," Isabel said, reached out with her hand behind her, grabbed the girls hand and pulled Elise towards her. She pulled Elise up on her lap and smothered her with kisses. Elise's giggles filled the room.

"Michael, could you put some string beans on her plate so they can cool off?" Maria asked Michael.

"Yup," Michael replied. "So what will it be instead of potatoes?"

"Pasta," Liz replied.

Michael scrunched up his nose. "Pasta? That doesn't go with chicken wings."

"It will now," Isabel said simply, letting go off Elise so that she could run around the table to her seat.

A hand settled over Jeffrey's as he watched the commotion around the dining table.

"You okay, Dad?" Liz asked, looking at him with those warm soft chocolate brown eyes. Her mother's eyes.

He smiled at her, turning his hand over beneath hers so that he could squeeze hers. "Yes, baby girl. It's wonderful."

"What about the Australian beers?" Max asked with a smile and Jeffrey saw him place his hand on Liz's knee. Always touching.

Jeffrey laughed. "Well, it's different."

Max nodded, his grin growing wider.

"I think they're great!" Michael announced, cutting into their conversation.

"That's because you have trouble finding Snapple here," Max said.

Michael shrugged. "What if it is?"

"No, don't play with your food, honey," Maria told Elise on the other side of the table.

Jeffrey looked over to see three string beans dancing around each other, levitating two inches above the plate.

Jeffrey could feel Max's hesitant eyes on him, still trying to figure out if Jeffrey was okay with all of this. But it was hard not to be entranced with the child of Maria and Michael. The way she would innocently use her special abilities - to make the world a prettier place - was endearing.

"Certainly brings a whole new meaning to 'playing with your food'," Jeffrey mused and Liz laughed next to him.

"Yeah," she said and squeezed his hand. "It certainly does."

And there we will leave them. Max, Michael, Isabel, Alex, Maria, Liz, Elise and Jeffrey. And Max and Liz's future child of course.

In their bubble of unique normalcy, creating a life for themselves with purpose, an Earthly purpose.

They will probably never stop looking over their shoulders and will raise their children to be careful about using their abilities amongst strangers.

But in the end, that won't matter.

In the end they are as human as the humans they were raised amongst. They laugh, they cry, they grieve, they dance with happiness, and they love.

On the inside they are no different than an Earthling.

**THE END**


End file.
